He touched you wrong. You forgot about it. He touched your mind and stayed for some time. You saw him and the fire in your mind grew. He exposed you. You were flustered. You were left behind. Your world shifted. You went somewhere new. The space between you two was tingling and indigo. You were not fully there but you wished you were. You didn’t see him for a while. The memory of the wrong touch came back. You didn’t know how to feel about it. The fire turned to a rumbling lump of coal. He reached out. You remembered and stayed back. You saw him again. You forgot again. You looked to see each time. You saw someone else with him. The coals burst back into your head and burned all the oxygen. It left behind a flower. He said spiky things and it hurt. The coals bubbled. You didn’t see him for a while. You remembered. You didn’t want to remember. The coals metastasized into a rotting mass and fermented your memory. You panicked. You turned to others to forget. You remembered the indigo. You became lonely and delusional. You kept your distance. You told him. He was gentle. You were confused. You were angry. You thought about it. You saw him again. You were embarrassed. You remembered. It clicked. You called someone else in the night, and he said it was alright. The mass burned in your stomach. You lied down and listened. You hurt others. You hurt yourself. Others hurt you. You offered to let go. You felt lighter, better. He touched you wrong a while back. He stayed in your mind for some time. You remembered, but it’s alright. The coals are almost gone, but they’re warm to the touch. Soon they’ll be gone, but the dust is in your lungs. The dust smells sweet.
He touched me wrong. I forgot about it. He touched my mind and stayed for some time. I saw him and the fire in my mind grew. He exposed me. I was flustered. I was left behind. My world shifted. I went somewhere new. The space between us was tingling and indigo. I was not fully there but I wished I was. I didn’t see him for a while. The memory of the wrong touch came back. I didn’t know how to feel about it. The fire turned to a rumbling lump of coal. He reached out. I remembered and stayed back. I saw him again. I forgot again. I looked to see each time. I saw someone else with him. The coals burst back into my head and burned all the oxygen. It left behind a flower. He said spiky things and it hurt. The coals bubbled. I didn’t see him for a while. I remembered. I didn’t want to remember. The coals metastasized into a rotting mass and fermented my memory. I panicked. I turned to others to forget. I remembered the indigo. I became lonely and delusional. I kept my distance. I told him. He was gentle. I was confused. I was angry. I thought about it. I saw him again. I was embarrassed. I remembered. It clicked. I called someone else in the night, and he said it was alright. The mass burned in my stomach. I lied down and listened. I hurt others. I hurt myself. Others hurt me. I offered to let go. I felt lighter, better. He touched me wrong a while back. He stayed in my mind for some time. I remembered, but it’s alright. The coals are almost gone, but they’re warm to the touch. Soon they’ll be gone, but the dust is in my lungs. The dust smells sweet.
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