My only constant is the black hair tie around my wrist. No mans gonna be there for me like this hair tie has. No ones presence is gonna b as reassuring
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You know what turns me on? Effort. Assurance. Show me you care. That you really want me. I’m tired of doubting whether people are coming or going.
(via queercutie)
I love being in contact with people like resting my hand on their leg and putting my head on their shoulder and wrapping my legs around them I love existing on the physical plane

