disturbia.

I used to love, love. its smell, the way it intoxicated my nostrils with every inhale, the way it left a precise footprint on my wrist. (I always said it was my favorite perfume.)

   I used to love, love. its linger, its touch. the way it held me intertwining eight limbs, crinkling necks, forming a sort of  awkward, lovely safe cocoon. (I always said it gave me butterflies.)

I used to love, love. its taste, the way it devoured my body leaving a hint of breath behind my neck, leaving with the most perfect signature on my lips. 

(I always said it was my favorite tattoo.)

I used to love, love. I used to. to. to.

by:valentina