I want to ruin you
not in the
"Yeah bro I got that girl in my bed and we ****** until she couldn't breathe and yeah I guess it was iight for me"
no
I want to ruin you in the Ernest Hemingway
way
I want your favorite song to be so haunted by our memories that it causes you to call me when the first note is played
I want to be the cloud on your sunshine of a day
when I'm not around
I want to be the guest that's overstayed
the one the housekeeper can't turn away
because they've grown fond of the smiles they greet each other with when they pass in the halls
I want to be the chocolate left on your pillow
The dust that you don't remove from your window
I want to be your favorite thimble
that you when you're sewing up my patchy sweats that I can't bear the throw away because I like the way they cling to my hips
I want to cling to yours lips
I want to be your favorite sweater that you wear to sleep at night
I want to hold your head like a pillow
I want to catch your dreams with thread woven through my fingertips and I'll even tie on some feathers
and you'll say I was create by the ancient cherokee tribe
I want to be the contact that protects those beautiful eyes
I want to kayak down the waterfalls they produce when you find out bad news
Yes
I want to ruin you
But I want you to ruin me, too.