[ WP ] The most hateful , spiteful , bitter confession of undying love .


 There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me ( encouraging me, even ) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it. 
 
 You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I ca n't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me. 
 
 But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out `` dear God, save me!'' I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he does n't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you would n't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem. 
 
 I do n't want you. I do n't, I do n't, I do n't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm stoned. I'm poisoned. I long for your tongue to cross paths with mine- even if it means that you'll bite like the waiting asp you are and I'll die. But I'll die loving you. 
 
 You're so open about it. You openly sport your prey, your toys- when you're tired of them, they dissolve away into the background, and I've watched it. Women, they come and go- like a cycle of evaporation, they come, they dry- they leave. Women, you get rid of. But me... I'm different, because I am not one of them. I linger; I tell myself its because I am ice to you- I refuse to bend and show you how much it affects me, but I'm melting. Dripping. For you. 
 
 One day, I'm going to give in to you. This is my acceptance of defeat. I will never be able to resist you for much longer- but I wanted to have it stated, have it shouted, how much I bloody despise you despite the fact that you are all in the world that could ever make me happy. These words are my paper crane- a thousand of them, a thousand more never said and never written- and they are my deepest wishes. Come and claim me, whenever you are ready. 

