Let’s sext in the rain,
how about it?
I know it ain’t,
I know, I know,
I know it ain’t the same,
But I get off on the idea of you gettin’ off to my words,
Fight of flight, fight or flight,
I want the damn kinetics of you,
I want your fist across my face,
I want to fucking touch someone,
everywhere, anywhere,
There’s too much in me, pushin’ at the threads keepin’ me together.
I got static discharge in the seams of me.
My edges go “snap, crackle, pop”.
I feel like Atlas over here,
And I need to give you some of my load.
–And that was crude of me,
–I don’t, I don’t,
–I don’t mean it like that.
–I mean, I do, but I don’t.
I don’t say this to take advantage of you,
but it’s fuckin’ pouring over here,
and it doesn’t show signs of stopping.
Let’s sext in the rain.
At least that’s closer to being constructive than destructive,
At least then I can pretend these knuckle bruises came from something I can blush at and be proud of.
I just need to know you’re there,
and you’re feeling things marrow deep.
