i want a boy that makes me weak in the elbows.
i want him to drive a red camaro and put pens behind his ear because hes scared hell think of something he needs to say when theres no one around. i want him to never hesitate to hug me from behind or throw me over his shoulder and spin me until i swallow my spine. i want him to mess up my hair and pinch my cheek and then kiss me until my teeth are shaking and my nerves are smoking. i dont know where he is yet, but i know ill find him.
well, i won't make you weak in the elbows, but i can make you weak in your ribcage; i can tame the struggling butterflies and terminate your bloodflow. i don't have a car, but i'd rather take long walks with you across the vivace boardwalk, holding hands or locking lips. there's no pen behind my ears, but there's an eraser in my chest that can erase all your problems if you listen closely. i won't hug you when you cry; i'd save them for beating up the bastard who stole your tears. your hair is too lovely to mess up, your cheeks too delicate.
i do promise, however, to take you camping in the heart of my heart and sing you lovesongs on my acoustic guitar. by day, we'll count the powder stratus clouds, squinting our magnetic eyes until they transform into living flowers i could pick or pretty rings i could buy; by night, we'll connect the diamond stars until the constellations spell our names in the moonlit sky like a permanent marker. i promise to pack the tent if you promise to be by my side.
i dont want to be too delicate, i want a boy that holds me tight.
i dont want him to be scared to grab me close, i want him to push me against the wall and kiss me until my breath leaks out the back of my skull. i want his touch to ice over my skin and his lips to melt it. i want him to look at me in a way that makes my heart puddle on my tongue so that when he smiles i can swallow and lose it all over again.
and i want him to know that when im wrapping my arms around my waist it means im five seconds away from falling apart and i need him to take two less than that to hold me together. i want him to not worry about the bastard that made me cry but be there comforting me instead. the bastard can wait, i cant. i want him to know the stars are beautiful but his eyes are better, so stop looking for our names up there and start finding me right here.
i can't hold you tight because my muscles go weak when i see you. it's not that i'm scared to grab you, but my timesnewroman tongue is dry from all this chasing after you and honestly i have nothing to give you -- nothing but lovelovelove and pretty words you don't want to hear.
it would take me less than three seconds to save you, but with you three seconds feels like an eternity -- an eternity i would spend with no other than you. my arms may not be that strong, and my vision may be blurred, but my cardiovascular pumps eighteen gallons whenever i'm with you; my treadmill heart shoots arrowlike bloodcells through treadmill veins, and i get all my exercise from breathing too hard because you've stolen my breath and replaced it with carbon dioxide. i don't need lungs when i have yours, and i don't need sight when i have your head in my lap.
i dont want to make him weak, i want to make him strong.
i want him to catch me when i fall and not try to build me a trampoline with pretty words. pretty words wont protect my skull from shattering and painting the sidewalk with the violent colors of my wishes. i want his arms to be there when my bones melt and his spine to strengthen mine when the world weighs too much and my knees buckle under it all.
and i cant be his extra set of lungs because im already using mine and still running out of air. i cant break him down when im already eroding at five centimeters a minute. i want to lean on him and let him lean on me so that were sturdy together and not losing our feet and breath and hearts without thinking. i dont expect him to pump the blood in my veins because i cant push the air through his lips. i just want him to hold my fingers and tell me itll be okay.
well, i want a girl who refers to "me" instead of "him", or a girl who doesn't need pronouns at all, but instead calls me by my name; when she means 'we', she'd roll our names off the tip of her tongue. i guess me and you aren't so compatible after all. all we are is pretty words with an abundance of pronouns; no emotion, just flowery rhetoric that would die in a vase because...
a) i'm too lazy to remember to water it, and
b) you're too picky to care, so you'll watch them die because you much prefer tulips to pansies. and while i may have two lips, the conveyor-belt-garden of my ribcage grows too many pansies.
and you've always had an allergy to them, haven't you ?