You may not know me, but, I am a writer, and I know you. I can write things about you that you yourself have not identified. I can write of you the things that you’ve seen, the way your eyes glistened across a room, or flooded with tears in the midst of an unbearable heartache. I can write of it as if I were there, holding your hand or wiping your tears, as if I were your only friend. I can write of it as if I were your enemy, the one shouting at you with rage, pulling you by the shirt and grabbing your face as I told you you weren’t shit to me, and that you never will be. I can write of you the people you’ve loved, the people you’ve fucked. The way you adoringly looked into her eyes as you thrust into her, hands planted firmly around her neck leaving room only for soft moans and whispers to escape the gape of her beautiful mouth. I could write of her; I could be her if you please. I could write of you your dreams, they way they’re never-ending, and the fantasies that put a hush to reality. I could be your dream, your angel when you shut your eyes.. Your nightmares, I could write of those too. How you wake up in a frenzy in the middle of the night, heart racing as your fingers run through and grip your hair. And I could be that nightmare, your demon in the dark. I am your good and your bad, your love and your hurt, your pride and I am also your shame. I am everything you are and everything you feel. All that I need is your name.
I think I just need to fuck. Hard. I need to be choked and slammed and bitten and spanked. Bruised. I’m yearning for the morning after feel of a purple mark on my thigh, aching from a roughly made love. To feel his hands along my waist.. would be everything. The moisture of his traveling tongue riding the waves as my body roars.. would be everything and more. I’d like to have my hair inside his fist, my neck in his hand as he thrusted me into him faster and faster. I want him to listen. Listen to every pant and gasp and moan and scream. From my noise, to my words, to my kisses and licks, to the spit that strings out of my mouth when his dick is down my throat, it’s all his. Everything is his. Will he have me?
Wrote this for my boyfriend, while he was falling asleep on my living room floor. I was just watching him, and thinking to myself how much I loved him. Wondering how I ever became capable of loving a person to such an extent, despite all of his faults, and ours as a couple. Then I found myself caught in a daze, with words just running across my head. So I figured, hey, I should probably write them.
I love you inexplicably, to the point of no return. The point of where your fingertips along my body, burn, into my veins, boiling up my blood. My mind becomes a hurricane, your love is now my flood. Drowning in my pain, and the rage that keeps us sane; through the tears, the screams, the travesty, you’ll never be my shame. Gasping for a breath as I’m caught up in your tongue, pressed together tightly, as our tensions come undone. You thrust yourself inside of me and pull back on my hair. Letting go of everything, of everyone, of a life that isn’t fair. Get lost into my body, sink your teeth into my soul. Chew my heart to pieces, but swallow my love whole. I need you every day, and even when you’re wrong. If loving you is weakness, I pray I won’t be strong. Take me, every part of me, and make this promise you can keep. That we’ll live our lives to see more days, I write of you, and watch you sleep. You are my forever, my morning and my night, and if you wish to spend your life with me, I won’t put up fight.
I love you, Eric.
- Alisha Ortiz