No person or thing hurting you is worth you hurting yourself
I want you to call me at 4 in the morning
when you’ve drank too much liquor
and smoked too many cigarettes
and you think the world is exploding
when it’s really just a bad headache.
I want to listen to you cry and
I want you to use my shirt to wipe away your tears.
I wouldn’t even care if you got snot on my favorite scarf.
I want to stay up all night talking to you
about Plath and Bukowski
and I want to wake up in the morning
with my hands tangled around you and
my mouth close enough to clumsily bump into yours.
I’ll sing You Are My Sunshine over and over again until you
plant your mouth on mine just to get me to shut up.
I’ll even give you massages after a long day
until my hands are raw and tired.
I want to hear you scream,
I want to see your lips tremble
and your fingers cramp
and your torso sweat.
I want to see it.
I want to see all the parts of you that you’ve never showed anyone.
I’ll let you bleed when you need to bleed
and I won’t hesitate to stitch up your broken parts.
I want so much of you
and it’s okay that you don’t want much of me.
I am nothing but a body filled with black tea
and heavy lids that droop after midnight.
Because whether it is today or tomorrow or 10 years from now in a small coffee shop, I will admit this all to you.
But for now, it feels safe on paper.
Don’t really get how people don’t realize that they make me feel incredibly insecure and less womanly when they attribute male qualities to me or reference me as anything masculine..any woman described as anything less than that would feel insecure. It makes me feel like I come across in a masculine way..and although some people may not take insult to that, I can’t help I do.