twisted

i’ll try to convince myself 

time and time again

that he 

has made a mess of me 

but never 

that i could have ever

made a mess

of myself. 

i am twisted

or am i twisting? 

is too late? 

can i save myself? 

stop asking all these questions 

he spoke

in between kisses 

in between tangled thoughts 

in between my head. 

he 

is dark 

and he is

twisted. 

and i 

am drowning inside of him.

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