i love you. i'll never love anybody the way i love you.
and i don't think that's a bad thing
i don't want our type of love
our king midas type of love
our rose-tinted-glasses type of love
i don't want the type of love that felt like pierced skin swimming in salt water
loving you was an open wound that i thought i could heal with a knife
loving you was the last three seconds before a minefield explosion
loving you was hating myself.
because i thought i could build a man who wanted to stay a boy
and every piece of you that i built meant losing a part of myself
i want easy loving
love that melts over you like butter over toasted wheat
i want safe loving
breathe in without the fear of water in my lungs
i want loving.
not a roller coaster ride or a canyon dive
not an ocean tide or a frenzied drive
i want to love and be loved and i want to love being loved
i love you and i'll never love anybody the way i loved you.
and that's the best darn thing i could do to make up to myself.
YOU ARE READING
HYSTERIA
Puisiand i will ruin you for loving me. and you will love me for ruining you. an attempt to reclaim the madness that defines femininity
