- Evie Wilder
Instinct
Sanity is someone's hands on me
It can be rough, it can be calm; as long as our skin meets
A finger on my cheek
A palm against my palm
It could be my head
on your chest
It could be a grip
on my breast
Thumbs kneading my feet
After a long, hard week
Our legs intertwined
With courage named whisky and wine
It's a deep-seeded need
To have somebody touch me
Just a simple wrap
their arms around my back
Would take me through
a day or two
Or if you want to see me
Strong for a week
Let me feel you feel me feel you
Underneath the sheets
You call it an addiction,
I call it instinct.