and we talk about books and religion lounging naked, trailing finger tips and lips over bony hips.
and grinning.
and our fingers slip and slide, down over thighs and again and again i realize i haven't been myself since i started with those stoic, silent eyes.
it's like i'm on fire again.
the past year a grim and dingy pain that sent me back, crumbling, high school and insane.
burns abound, i found myself staring longingly at blades again.
but no more, no more of the same.

***

you fool, you horrid fool. it's not the time passing that will change you, there is not a person to bring you to the cool.
his fingers still slip, the fire's still lit, but you drag yourself halfway to the ocean again to try and drown.

and chicken out.

and shout and cry, and your scars are thick, they're pink still with freshness, the pain still abounds.

it's you, it's you, it was always you. this is you. this is life.