I stir in bed as the memories rise out of me.
I crave to be rid of them, but find myself being careful, too, choosing which ones to let out into the light.
I want you to find me innocent...
As much as I've craved you, i want you now to stop stroking my inner arms at night with your fingertips.
Stop whispering.
I'll live or die on the strength of your judgement, but first let me say who i am.
