Brist
The Lady, or the Lioness?
- Local time
- Today 8:01 AM
- Messages
- 402
- Age
- 32
There's something in this. In the heat. In the warmth. Whereas the things you say, the things you do, are things I should run from, I should run from you. Yet, I nuzzle closer, pull your arm around me, because there's something in this.
In the every day, I shake and I cringe. My heart races faster, my breaths more shallow, but it all goes away, in that warm little hollow. Between your shoulder, neck and chest, I've found my space. Resting easy to the sound of your breathing, reassured by the look on your face.
There's something in this, I just can't quite place. But its warm and it's right, it's familiar, a safe place. I've felt it before, but I can't say when. Seems nearly lost and forgotten, but I'll beg on my knees to feel it again.
In the every day, I shake and I cringe. My heart races faster, my breaths more shallow, but it all goes away, in that warm little hollow. Between your shoulder, neck and chest, I've found my space. Resting easy to the sound of your breathing, reassured by the look on your face.
There's something in this, I just can't quite place. But its warm and it's right, it's familiar, a safe place. I've felt it before, but I can't say when. Seems nearly lost and forgotten, but I'll beg on my knees to feel it again.
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