tell me you enjoy me for who i am

with your hands wrapped about my chest.

​

tell me you need a piece of me or my mind,

and i'll be clinging onto you.

​

take the notch out my spine when it's hurting.

read everything i write about you.

show me a little bit of what's underneath and you know,

i'll be clinging onto you.

​

i am mulling it over (last night).

i am thinking about lust and bodies.

i am watching myself in the dark holding your bare shoulders,

and brooding over a little "come here, now"

​

this is like white knuckle grip kind of clinging

this is like, i have very little composure.

i'm not quick to either, but suppose

you're the person to bring it about.

​

past your coarse exterior that you know you have

and beyond thinking you're better than wanting me,

i wish then i wonder should i pour myself out into your tiny glass,

so we can get along just a little bit longer?

​

foolish me,

you've been frank, just not clear.

and im enjoying myself all the same.

that's my fault and that's also yours.

​

i am giving you warm honey energy still.

i am giving you good heart and vibration.

i am lacing up for the long ride with you,

and undressing myself for the short.

​

say you want to know where and when i am coming,

ask me if it hurts when you do.

say you won't push away when i collapse to the side,

and i'll be holding onto you.

​

tap the nape of my neck when my posture is poor,

hold the seam of my shirt when i'm leaving,

kiss my belly a little before you go under,

so that i'm clinging onto you.