I Know you. You’re a good girl, trying to do the right thing. Always caring, always loving, always giving of yourself.
You see the light in the dark, the good in the bad, the small things that slip past, unnoticed in their blind spot.
And I see you.
I see you struggling to release the weight of that role. To give voice to those other parts of you. The ones you don’t really like to think about. That jar; your peace of mind, and when they intrude, unprompted, how you’ll feel.
And I feel you.
You wouldn’t have told me about them. You just couldn’t. In the dead of the night, to acknowledge such thoughts, to put them into words, to speak them out loud. You can’t. But you don’t have to. Those words left unspoken, I can hear them.
And I hear you.
I could take your body, pleasure you. But I’m inside your head more importantly. I know that secret thought, and I know when you need it; and when I taste your mind, how starved I have been.