I want you in the worst way.
I want to take you away from your friends, get you out of your comfort zone, make you think about me. When you’re walking, driving, reading, talking, I want you thinking about me. I want to know everything right now. I want to talk all night and all next day, explaining me to you, learning you, studying you. I want to know all you’ve done, every thought you have. I want to go over the books, the movies, the places, the things, the music you love and I want to love them too, and make you love all the things I love, make you see the beauty, feel the groove, laugh at the perfect rhythm and rhyme. I want to take you to my special places and I want them to be your special places. I want you in the worst way.
I want to know who you’ve fucked and I want you to deny them, deny them all, forsake them for me, and I will forsake all mine for you. I want to own your body, touch you freely whenever and wherever I want, and I want you to want it, want me, arch toward my hand, lean into my arms. I want you to need only me, desperate desire without reserve. I want you in the worst way.
I want you to call me from work and say you want me, that you just can’t wait. I want to call you at night and talk dirty, and I want you to like it. I want to wake you in the morning by sucking your toes, licking behind your knee. I want you naked in my arms, naked in my kitchen, naked in my dreams. I want to give you all I have and take all you have. I want you in the worst possible way.
I want to fuck you all afternoon on a hot Sunday, and I want you to fuck me back, vulgar slut, beautiful angel, crying, laughing, moaning. I want to take your heart, your mind, your soul, and never give them back.
Because I want you in the worst damned possible way.
OOH Larry! Whoever that’s for is a lucky lucky woman! What I wouldn’t give to have those words said to me.
It could be you, Red, but think about it: Do you really want it that way?
Yes, I would.
But who ever said I was emotionally healthy.
WoW…*sigh*
Damn. Huh. Good God. Hmmm.
GFI and Cranky – Use your words!
Give me back my friends. Give me back my past.
Stop trying to force me to be everything your desperate emptiness needs me to be.
Why do I have to become your mirror? Why do you think you need me to complete you?
I will have privacy. I will have my own thoughts. I will be honest, even if it doesn’t suit you.
You don’t own me.
Even if I surrendered, it would never be enough for you.
I completely get the “Wow” reactions, Larry. You’ve done a fantastic job of painting that desperate, blinding, all-encompassing desire. It seems attractive to the object of desire until the crushing weight makes breathing nearly impossible.
Elvis Costello: I Want You
You’re right, Theresa. It could be that bad.
See Part 2 of this for just a hint.