






the scratches you gave me are healing a pity, really. my pale skin looked so good striped red with marks left by desperate lust. they were so pretty, each little line. now they’re forming scabs which will leave long white scars. you know, it doesn’t sting when you tear at my flesh it feels brand new if it isn’t too forward i would love to ask if you’d leave a few more. i will, of course, understand if you’d rather not. i promise it’s more important that i can see you and be your friend maybe it’s the tragic lesbian in me but there’s something i’ve always loved about wanting to fuck my friends