Hands on Skin
What is it about the thought
of someone else’s hands
on your skin, your cheek, your thighs…
that makes me go mad
like i have ever touched them.
I have only been a pawn in your game
and you have been a tease
even in my dreams.
So, what makes me think i had some stake
in your new single status
like i would ever have the gaul to ask you out
on a date,
like it were perfectly normal.
Maybe, if we were perfect strangers
but, we’re not and it’s horrible.
So, what now?
You go to bed with her
and i go to bed with a bottle
and a pillow
forced to absorb the thought of…
her hands on your skin,
from my eyes.
I am going mad,
with nothing but my thumb and forefinger
pressing at my temples
to hold back the dam of grief.
Nothing but a drink,
to damn YOU over
as it breaks.
I’d give anything to get you out of my system
but, when i fell to my knees and opened my mouth
there was nothing but my stomach
to throw in the toilet.
I’d give anything, not to know
about those hands
on your skin, your neck, your lips…
but, these things have a way of getting out
and now i am here alone,
going MAD
while you are somewhere going
Ohhhhhhhhhh…….
