what i want.
my breath like ice sometimes. often times, like fire. i am still in love, as much as i fight it off, swear it off i cannot shake the grip of his warm eyes, his hands. we went weeks without even a phone call and then just as abrupt as the absence, was the bite of his teeth against my neck, his hands on my thighs, fistfuls of hair, and finally. for an entire week we met in secret, whispered breathless devotions in the middle of the night, texted like we were fourteen years old, kissed hard on the mouth, everywhere. on the phone, i shivered bravely on my back step, cigarette in hand, just to listen to his sighs. i feel guilty resignation. i want more than i can handle at this point. he only tells me that he loves me when his lips touch my ear, when it is only us around to hear it. i ache. i straight fucking ache with the weight of knowing that we both want something, but are too afraid to go ahead with the fucking thing. what happens when we hit a tree? a parked car? a brick wall? my heart, fragile now, cannot withstand another high impact collision with foreign objects. i just want to love him. my man. with dinner on the table every night. bowls on the back step. sex in the sheets. i would kill. trust me. i would kill.