on asking

She got worried about what it might sound like, those words on her lips those lips on her tongue. How do you tell someone that what you want from them is to be hurt? To hold you so tight your ribs may splinter into their hands? There was a lot of pushing going on around that time. Pushing parts away and pushing others to the surface, gasping for air and making gutteral noises like we were the only ones that had seen the light. I had started to see the importance in asking for what I wanted just by watching her flail around in her own mess. I could see kinds of need in her eyes that I hadn’t seen anywhere else and it got me wondering who had strung her out on the line for so long to leave her like this. You don’t just find people these days, they find you. Even when she was being pretty I got sad and then I got around on that for awhile. I kept good distance from her while we slept because I was convinced she’d slip into my dreams and then never leave. And as much as I loved having her around and dragging her around and pushing her around by the wrists, there were certain parts that scared me, scarred me and made me want to leave.


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