I think you are beneath me.
From your large callused hands to your mismatched shoes, think you are too low, in the hierarchy of things i would like, things i like
I like, dark skin, on white sheets, soft lips scented with whisky, i like tall guys with cute lashes i like goofy ass people who make me laugh, i like sarcasm and yet you,
You with yout mismatched shoes and belt got my attention and now am not really enthralled but more captivated than i have been in a while, you, see me say i have wrapped my principles soo thickly around me am in a cocoon you who thinks am too boujee, too intelligent yet.. Yet i know
You are not the one am looking for, you are just not it
You liked my song you said, the way the notes would curl out of my throat, whisper through you and beg the goosebumps to rise on your skin send whispers down your spine, making you whimper with suppressed need for me, for my touch on your soul and the burn of my love in your heart
You hurt me
So much and that was suprising because the hurt was the first tell tale sign that i had fallen, where i thought my pride was holding my spine up nose up am too cold hearted to feel the warmth you seem to radiate when we are together. I seem addicted to your touch and now that we are are not touching anymore the only symphony i hear in my head is the cracking of my cold heart.