like i don’t ever want to do anything to my own body again because if i do break, i want it to be on your accord instead of mine.
your fingerprints are on me. i know because your touch feels different to everything else and certainly can’t be replicated by another person.
i forget where we are until you tell me you have to leave, and where i am is no longer you but the bed and the open window and the clothes on the floor.
i feel out of place in my own home when you’re not in it anymore.