run your calloused hands over my skin and peel back all the parts that make me something other than a boy in love with another boy. i want to be nothing more. i want to be high in hotel rooms and stupid under your hands, unable to explain the way my mind fogs over when you are near. i want to be left in your bedside drawer for safe keeping. i want you to write me fake eulogies and crawl into the coffin next to me when they become real. i want to be clay in your hands. use me use me use me use me
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