{That day I learned my ass could break a hairbrush, 2015.} |
My veins fill too tight.
I feel like a headache's
coming,
Just dreaming about your
hunter eyes
quick-twitching (to keep me
running).
I spent years not-sure if
being
hunted'd make me stronger
—soon.
Now—
I'm nervous; heart-skin
feels
stretched-thin like a
water balloon,
Just wanting to step
closer, so your
eyes will blur, too soft
to attack again.
I spend this second
remembering
how in-love, I was
stronger
then.