Demos

 I wonder how one would write the woman of your dreams.

Or should I say girl, knowing your preferences. I suppose that's a start.

Harsh already. Bitter. Because you've still got it, that's why. Still the pull. My heart leapt when I saw your name on my phone. Or stopped. Or temporarily fell into my stomach. Thankfully I had to go to work. I read it about 16 times before I realised I didn't have to reply, even if it were my first instinct to do so. And then I realised it was probably a lie anyway.

Desiring. That would be a start. She'd desire you. Secretly - you like a chase. But then again, you like to be dominated, don't you?

Why am I analysing this now? It wouldn't change the way I acted.

Stop sticking your chest out.

I still remember that. How did that begin? How old was I?

A girl.

I don't know - maybe I'm getting too hung up on where I am now compared to where I was then. 

Sometimes I'm falling into a hole of series and songs and images and I feel like I'm still that exact same girl. 

Except now, time is running out to change my life.