Her mouth feels better than your’s; and I hate that I always default to physicality, because she’s also held me when no one else could. And that mouth of her’s has said words that brought me back from the edge while your’s only told me to take more. I’d like to think I’m in a better place, but all I can feel is dissatisfaction. And when I think of your lips, I can only feel dissatisfaction. And when I look at myself, I can’t help but feel dissatisfied; because she’s too good for me and there will never be satisfaction if I keep comparing her to you.