Tangled sheets

The pain isn’t beautifully tragic anymore,

it’s overbearing.

I want you in the most innocent ways.

But also in ways that aren’t completely pure,

I’m giving you permission to corrupt me.

I want you at 3pm on a Sunday afternoon curled up on the couch in a blanket while watching whatever cheesy romance movie we could find.

But i want you at 2am on a Friday night with sloppy drunken kissses as we get tangled up in the sheets of your bed.

I just want you…

s.b.

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