i always love to look at your back, you shoulder blades seem sharp enough to cut me into pieces.
but yes, you already cut me down
gazing you from behind is a bliss, imagining my fingers could reach the backside of your neck try to draw a vertical line down to your hip.
you look back at me, give me a silent smile, seem to hide some pretty dark secrets behind the shape of your cherry red lips.
and your eyes, they were tired eyes, and small. but they asked mine to look at yours. so brown, so warm.
i can hear that your husky voice says my name. not just a name. it's a nick name.
you said that you need to leave. didn't want you to leave me. but i didn't hold you back. and so there are somethings are left unsaid.
and yes.. somethings are better left unsaid.