I study your worry lines in peripherals
and try not to think about the times I've wanted your hands on me.
I feel as though it's been years, years and years
yet seconds since you last looked into my eyes.
jumping to conclusions just so you can find my glance.
our fingertips touched and there were no sparks
no quickened heartbeats, just a pressure from both ends.
it wasn't just me. I know it wasn't just me.
I feel so raw whenever you move the slightest inch
yet I'm not sure if I want to know you
because I understand I'll just be disappointed.
