What if I want to be ruined?
What if I want your obsession white-hot and scalding?
What if I want someone who could never truly leave me?
So long as your red flags are as deliciously red as your rum-kissed lips
I could bite a few
"You don't know what you're asking for"
I can still feel the tide washing me away
Our intertwined fingers scrunched with half-full seashells that scratch an itch no nails can
Black, gelid oil bruised with gold pearls
Swollen in diameter through my glassless eyes
I'm exactly asking you to hit me with your worst
I want your saltwater taffy lips, your sleepless nights, your sickness
My friends chalk it up to saintly patience
When really it's suicidal ideation
It's not the scar I want
But the blaze, the sting, the branding of you on my skin
And you're the perfect fit
God, I just want to feel anything.
