Mystic River

I must truly be a masochist the way I want to run back to those hands.

The temptation is a living thing which wraps around my body in a hot embrace

Those hands that grip my waist and feel like fire on my skin

Like magnets connecting our bodies, every time he pulls away slightly I go with him

Those hands that make me shiver, make me feel alive 

When those hands touch my body I feel like a woman

I feel like THE woman I always pictured myself being

It’s like some part of me from a distant reality clicks into place 

As if for a moment I’m exactly where I was always destined to be

And those fucking hands are the evidence of it all.

Because how can someone’s touch feel THAT good?

How can someone who’s hurt me over and over and over still make me feel butterflies when they look in my direction?

How can I allow myself to still feel those butterflies through my dried up tears?

Fuck. I hate how good it feels.