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v u l v a l i c i o u s

the ocean is my girlfriend
2019-05-05 // 2:03 a.m.

She hits me like she means it, knocks the air from my lungs. Sometimes I think I like being broken down, or would if it could always be like this. I'm on my knees. Waiting. Waiting.

When she tells me to jump I do it, don't hesitate, don't ask how high but dive in with my hands ahead of me to break through, go under, resurface like someone reborn.

She grabs me by the throat and kisses me, salty and strong and too much, too hard. I pull away gasping and coughing and she laughs like she always does, already moving on. Already knowing I won't leave.

And I don't.

I tell her she's good and that she's good to me, and she pretends not to hear even though she's surrounding me. Even though she's holding me up like I'm some precious yet forgettable thing. I don't want her to drop me, but I know she hears me when I tell her she could. When I tell her I'd let her and might not fight.

The pull is almost too much sometimes. Too strong. The way my feet slip out from under me and I feel my fingertips floating too far from my body. Head full of water. Mouth full of dreams.

She reminds me I'm expendable, and then treats me kind. Laps at my skin all soft, sends me some playful barb that lands on me easily, making me laugh. If she could talk she'd tell me she likes me. If either of us communicated with anything other than some unseen piece of ourselves (this part that binds us, this knowing that I can only talk about in vague terms and empty metaphors), I think she'd tell me she likes knowing I'm hers.

She'd tell me what I taste like. Say I remind her of a time when things were different. She'd invite me home with her and I would be allowed to say yes.

Instead she batters me and I end up lying back and laughing, kicking my legs and listening to the sound they make against her, the drum and the swish and delicate thundering in my own ears. I go back to her again and again. And even when I can't, it feels like I'm spending half my time looking west and missing her, dreaming of what it would be like if we were together like I want.

back-forth

i just read my previous entries... - 2019-11-26
to keep - 2019-11-26
the worst kind of text dump - 2019-09-28
bed prison - 2019-08-17
you're begging please - 2019-05-26