I want everything

 

I want to devour you.

I want to be that cliché, the moth to a flame.

I want tumultuous, always guessing never sure, untamed.  

 

I want everything

 

I want gentle kisses, a slow brush of lips.

I want limbs intertwined, to be pressed hip to hip.

I want scary and exhilarating like going 80 in a 40.

 

I want everything

 

I want the horrible, the screaming, the twisted mind games.

I want your knuckles tattooed purple from fist fights with other men.

I want all your nights to involve me, wine, and shots of gin.

 

I want everything

 

I want you to see me cry after every severed promise.

I want to know why you said “you were ready” to only be dishonest.

I want to go back to when you’d kiss me and I’d flush azalea pink.

 

I want nothing.

 

I want everything