Needy bitch (ihatepoetry)

I don’t really need you.

I’ll write myself a world and put you in it.

Make love to you every which way – infinite.

Tell you jokes, you’ll always smile.

Within my stories you stay awhile.

But I want you.

Your touch, your breath, your weight, your song, your giggles, your knowledge, your voice, your thoughts, your everything.  I want it. All of it.  I could never write you justice.  My imagination could never be that grand.  I want the real thing.  Flaws. Fuck-ups. Tears. Drama. Anger. Fists.  I want it all.  Broken glasses. Tired face.  Sick stomach.  Empty closets.  Suitcases by the door.  I want the lonely space you leave behind.  The hollow in my pit.  I need it – crave it.  Must have it.  Taste it.  Tangle within my sheets.  Your imprint on my pillow.  Your scent on my night shirt.  Your hairs on the sink.  I want it all.  I need it.

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