My hand is around your neck and my nails are digging marks into your flesh through your shirt and I’m making compulsive moves.
I can pretend that I don’t need you but we both know i’d be lying because my lips cant leave your skin, you are my unmarred prey and I am the predator looking to sink my teeth into you and leave you bleeding.
I hope you take my love to your grave, I hope that even after your death you can still see me standing over you, the perfect picture of domination and power and uncontrolled passion. I hope that the bruises I leave on your body are still shown on your skeleton long after your skin and muscles rot away.
I don’t care if everyone knows about my need to own you. My need to posses every piece of your body, mind, and soul. I want to be the one the letters in I love you drip off your tongue for.
I hope my love fills your veins with poison. The only cure is the novocaine I give you in my kisses, cause baby I’m killing you and giving you life in every kiss and you can’t leave even if you wanted to because I am such an addictive substance.
I’m your favorite baby and we both know it. You can run to other girls for your average romance but we both know that isn’t you. I am a immortal flame meant to burn you long after your time is gone; long after I am gone you will be left craving me and I have no problem telling you that to your face. I’m just that caught up in my gifted sins.
Go ahead a bite off more of me than you can chew, lose yourself in my skin and possessive personality. Go ahead and drown yourself in the hurricane that is me. Nothing about me is passive, I will aggressively love you, but you’re still just my pass time.
I’m haunting your mind with memories of late night make out session, I haunt your skin with marks of my ownership, I’m a passionate girl spinning out of damn control, so baby, I hope you’re ready to catch me.
You said that I was your air, and she was your water. You need both air and water to live so when I asked “Can’t you find water somewhere else?”. It didn’t surprise me when you said “you don’t leave a well for a puddle.”. I have to remind myself that even though you are both the morning air I breathe and my glass of water before bed, I am not both of yours. I surround you in every aspect and you will always need me but at some point, you will find yourself taking a drink from her. You see, the sun loved the moon so much that it died every night for her. So I will let my winds guide you to her well, if it’s what makes you happy.
But anyways, I just kind of want write about you, about how your body is literally it’s own work of art. But I know that whatever I write won’t be good enough to compare to the real thing.
To write poetry on your body with my lips.
One night of just losing myself in your soft curves and your moans and your lips. Not having to worry about anything because in that moment we can just be.
YOU DON’T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU WEIGH. YOU ARE NOT FAT, IN ANY WAY. YOU HAVE A PERFECT BODY TYPE, AND YOU ARE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL I HAVE EVER SEEN, AND I WILL BET YOU EVERYONE ELSE THINKS SO. I DON’T KNOW HOW EXACTLY TO HELP YOU WITH THE DYSPHORIA. IS IT ABOUT YOUR GENDER?
AND IF IT IS, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I AM GOING TO LOVE YOU IF YOU ARE BOY OR GIRL OR NEITHER OR BOTH, I WILL LOVE YOU WHETHER YOU HAVE BIG BOOBS OR SMALL OR NONE, AND NO MATTER WHAT GENITALIA BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, AND THAT DOESN’T CHANGE BECAUSE OF HOW YOUR BODY IS. I CAN GUARANTEE YOU, THAT YOU ARE ALWAYS GOING TO BE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL/HANDSOME OR THE CUTEST OR HOTTEST PERSON IN THE ROOM TO ME, AND I’M NOT THE ONLY PERSON WHO IS GOING TO THINK THAT.
I WILL SPEND ALL OF MY TIME MAKING SURE YOU KNOW JUST HOW BEAUTIFUL AND HANDSOME I THINK YOU ARE, AND MAYBE YOU WON’T BELIEVE ME, MAYBE TELLING YOU OR SHOWING YOU MIGHT NOT CONVINCE YOU, AND THAT’S OKAY, BECAUSE I GET IT, BUT I WON’T STOP TRYING.
AND IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY, I WILL PERSONALLY TAKE YOU TO A HAIR SALON AND HAVE THEM CUT YOUR HAIR AS SHORT AS YOU WANT IT, ANYWAY YOU WANT IT, AND THEN WE CAN TAKE YOU HOME AND SCARE YOUR MOM WITH HOW BADASS AND SEXY YOU LOOK.
I don’t know what I was expecting, when I laid down my body for you to have. I was naive to think that you could only ever crave the taste of my lips. To think you would fall in love with the rise and fall of my chest when I sleep, to actually love me so much that you can’t think about being with anyone else. I thought I could change you, I thought that maybe I was more than just a body, moans, and clothes on the floor. I dream of kids and Palo alto, and you want excitement and some city in Switzerland. I can’t make you want that, I can’t make you want long term or monotony. You don’t want to be a surgeons wife, you want to marry the fun one, and I’m just waiting for you to realize it. Realize I’m not the girl you made out with last month, or the one you’ll make out with next month. I’ll be your prom date, someone to hold and love, the one to buy you flowers, and show you off to all her friends, but I’m not the girl you fall into bed with tomorrow night. And I know this but I’m still wearing the jeans you love so much on me, in case you want to take them off.