Rough

Fuck the status quo and the bitches who won't bleed.

Come and get it, if you want it. I'm in the mood to scream.

I'm a goddamn dominatrix tripping on my own fucking leash.

Still, I could make your world sweat. Baby, on your knees.

I'm a snake around your apples, hungry raptor in the trees.

Love's a joyous paralytic, and I'm ready to receive.

Fingers laced around our necks, thighs entwined in sheets.

Dappled purples, mottled blues. Honey, dig in deep.

I don't live on the edge, I'm the fucking razor blade.

Slap and kiss me, push me, choke me.
There is no pleasure without pain.

Bite me with your tongue, lick me with your teeth.

Maybe after all, you'll find a good girl underneath.

Long

I want the type of love that people envy. Not because I want the attention, but because I want to know that I have something that people rarely find.

I want passion. I want a man who will push me against the wall and ravage me. I want more in his mind than lust. I want to mean something to someone. I want to mean everything to someone. I want to be his every waking thought. I want to exist where I do not.

I want frantic kisses in bed and someone else’s sweat on my chest. I want a man who will accept my sexuality with all of its kinky attributes. I want a man who will suit my animalistic needs but who still knows how to make love.

I want romance. I want tender kisses and warm hugs. I want a body pressed against mine. I want a man’s arms around me in a loving physical silence. I want to belong to someone, and I want him to belong to me. I want those butterflies when he whispers in my ear. I want him to say sweet things and mean them.

I want a man who will appreciate me as a woman instead of a plaything, who will use me as his rock and not his whore. I want cold nights and hot kisses. I want lingering tongues and trembling pulses.

I want a man who will challenge me intellectually but never find joy in my ignorance. I want honesty so impenetrable that it hurts. I want a man who has no qualms about sinking his teeth into me. I want a man who knows what safety words are for. I want a man who always wants me but has the self control to wait. I want a place to cry but never a reason. I want love so radiant that it shines in my eyes and reflects in his.

I want spontaneity. I want kisses in the rain and company in a storm. I want love on a soft floor. I want someone to make happy. I want to run my fingers through his hair and rake my nails across his back. I want to please him in every way I know how. I want to take his bottom lip in my teeth and milk a vibrating moan from his mouth.

I want laughter so pure that we sound ridiculous together. I want corn and fluff. I want unabashed comical relief. I want his smile imprinted in my memory but never the need to recall it. I want a man who hugs me from behind and nibbles on my ear. I want a man who relishes in the simple sensation of fingers tracing invisible pictures on his back. I want a man who calls me just to hear my voice.

I want a lover. I want a friend. I want days to crawl across the sleepiness within a white hammock. I want fights to end completely without harbored anger or remorse. I want arguments to end in sex. I want a man who understands what makes a relationship last and puts it into practice. I want a man who loves massages—giving and receiving.

I want a man who’s vocal. I want to hear his pleasure in rippling groans that flex and tense his torso. I want silence to disappear in the shadow of ecstasy but blanket the times when nothing must be said. I want a man who knows the value of the word “beautiful.” I want to believe him when he says it.

I want instant heat between my legs at the sight of him. I want his hands. I want dripping sarcasm in wine glasses. I want his voice to be my aphrodisiac. I want his lips to hesitate above mine for a split second to intensify what is to come.

I want a man who appreciates the dying art of the written romantic letter. I want tea for two and cuddling on the couch. I want Jimmy Stewart nights and Kevin Smith nights. I want slow dancing for no reason. I want him to tell me what to wear so he can look at me hungrily all night long. I want Chinese takeout, chopsticks, and pajamas. I want really bad kisses… with good ones to make up for them.

I want lips, tears, teeth, nails, leather, lace, flesh, and metal. I want parallel heads with an annex for dreams. I want messy perfection.

And I want.
And I want.
And I want.