journal · prose

Past Need

How do you do this to me? It was one time. It should be enough. It was more than I was expecting. But I need more, want more, must have more. You are truly an addiction; I cannot get enough of you. It defies all of my sensibilities, mocks logic, tells reason to fuck off. It goes so much deeper than the skin. You slid right down into my nerves and veins. I took it all in, thinking one dose would do. It doesn’t. Now I want every part of you touching every part of me. Run my lips, my tongue, over each centimeter of skin: kissing, licking, biting, tasting, scratching, feel you, feel you, I need to feel you again. Another kiss to remember all your kisses by. Another fuck before it’s too late. I might burst from the force of this ravenous desire. I wasn’t expecting this at all. You know, most people just do drugs. But somehow I get stuck on you. Give me more, just a little bit more, the tiniest bit… just say we’ll be together again. Fuck. I need you.

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