Every inch of me sore from your touch and every heavy breathe between kisses, its all yours.
But I don't know if you give me the same courtesy.
When your face is in my face, when your face is in my hands, every fear melts away and all I want is to forever find myself imprisoned in your embrace, the first time this wild girl has ever wanted and willed to be caged.
Don't waste your heart on a wild thing, didn't your mother ever tell you?
I always fear my wildness my wilderness will cause the rift between us. But maybe I have been led astray by my own mistrust in my commitment dances, to be unable to see you are willing to take what you want from me and not reciprocate the less desirable moves.
Trip three steps backward and realize I am not just some girl, I am the wild girl, with a large, creative heart, who will rip you to shreds as quickly as I will hold you to me. Realize I am not to be trifled with. Realize I am too independent to accept less than the best version of you.
So one question, my love, something you don't know my head calls you when I forget to take things slow, are we exclusive? am I yours and are you mine?
This question could ruin us or make me fall more in love with you. Only time will tell what you do with this wild girl, if you make her fall in love enough to stay, or if you send me away.
You may break my wings, but wings can be healed.
Us, on the other hand, may be another story.
What's funny is under all my anger and independence and ultimatums, all I truly want is to simply be yours.
Let you be mine. I promise I will love you like no other, because there is no other. Isn't there beauty in that?
Just let me fall in love with you, and maybe, for once, we can be something magical.
I'm yours.
