Work Text:
Obbsesion
I want to be the gusting winds in a hurricane pulling you in for eternity, never letting you go
I want never to be the embrace that is not enough
Only to find safety in the eye of the storm
I want the day you leave my embrace that it hurts so badly, like ripping off body tape without oil
I want it to hurt so that you will run back to me so I can care for your wounds
To be the band-aid that always sticks is what I desire
I want to be the knife that cuts you so deep the scar never fades
I want to be the scar tissue a memento of how deeply I loved you
The pain in your ribs, the stitch in your side a constant reminder of me
I want to be the school house you hate, the useless homework thrown at the wall
I want to be the teacher you hated yet learned the most from
Only you tend to listen
I want to be the sunlight that burns you, that makes you sick of the world
I want to be a cancer that only you can cure
To be your death and love is what I want
I want to be the bleach that ruins your favorite shirt, all so I can make you a new one
I want to be the fabric so soft you forget to wash it
The tears in the cloth will always be smaller than my heart
I want to be the make-up that stains your skin, gives you acne for years
I want to be the cleanser that rids you of pain
Only pins hurt more than my love
I want to be the jewelry in your ears, whispering sweet nothings
I want to be the infection the puss seeping from the puncture
To be the saline is what I want
I want to be your favorite book, so adored the pages start to fall out
I want to be the paper cuts that infect your fingers that cause your nails to fall out
The nails tend to fallout like teeth
I want to make you pace up and down
I want to be your arms swaying side to side
Only a bouncy ball beats harder than your fist
I want to listen to the sound of your heart and fall asleep on your chest
I want to rip out your tongue when you talk too long
To stop your interrupting is what I want
I want to be the ink underneath your skin
I want to be the healing skin the cracks and peels
The filters in my head are clogged with the remnants of you