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.