I see your eyes sink as I pull away, My hand reluctant to leave the grove its found its self on your hip, My eyes reluctant to pull away from your emerald gaze.
My body jolts, Frozen for a second. 'I should stay' my heart utters to my head but my brain has already made a decision based on past experiences that left me raw for months.
I know I should stay because its 4am and the walk home is a boarder line death sentence of creepy walkers and drunken rabbles
But my head takes me home because I'm scared of a hundred and one things that may put you off me even though I know deep down they won't.
Like I snore like a monster truck when I sleep, Like my body reaches the temperature of lava so I am a nightmare to cuddle, Like my self inflicted scars on my thighs...
I don't want you to think I am weak or vulnerable, and I know you won't, but my head likes to make the worst of a good situation and I was brought up knowing vulnerability is weakness.
When I pull away I see your eyes ask me to stay but I still pull away.
Why... Why do I have to do that?. As if I cannot control my lega I am gone before I even realise the door is closed... Except once.
Once you looked after me in a haze of a 1000 different drinks. You told me to stay, Looked after me, Made me feel...
Now I know there is safety in the feeling of being with you, Safety in being around you, Being held by you. At my most vulnerable, held by you.
I want to offer you that same feeling, Hold you, Be around you, make you feel safe in my home, in my bed room.
Away from judging eyes in the quiet of my room in the darkness of the night.
Attitudes of others create discomfort in my head, but I want to show you safety in my space as you do for me.
I want to offer you safety but for now all I can offer is me.