baby, i've been trying hard not to get in trouble.

but you don't understand when you don't have wanderlust that sews itself into your very bones. you don't love like i do, wild and free. you don't want to ride the edge. you want your 9-5 office job, the picket fence, a perfect wife and children. i'm not saying i don't love you but i can't love restrained and i can't love you perfect. i know i promised forever-- but haven't i told you my middle name was "i make promises i can't keep?". i guess that never came up.

i can't keep living vicariously through lonely jazz singers and voracious cult leaders. call me stupid, but i want to have that drink, i wanna smoke. i'm sorry i had you under the pretense that i was a good little girl. i'm not. i wanna dance until the soles in my shoes are bare and worn. i wanna go running in thunderstorms and play russian roulette with my untamable heart and go wherever i yearn. i look at birds with envy because i am a flightless soul. darling, you're a seed and sooner or later you're gonna want the roots that i can't give you. i need to breathe. that's all i want. my obsession with freedom might destroy me, but god, is there ever a better way to die?

i tell all the lovers i've ever had to let me lay me down on the open road, leave more than skid marks on highways and more than a twist in my bed sheets. i love minds just as much as i love bodies. my past affairs were like wind rushing past but i don't know if i've ever really slowed down because i am ******* reckless. i have no regrets.

i wanna let loose on city streets, shout in the rain, sin on parkway benches and get lost in a tangle of whatever the hell I want to drown in. so please, even though you don't understand half of this feral wild creature i am-- let me live like i'm crazy.

when my mother told me to watch out for things that go bump in the night i thought she was talking about monsters and priests, but lately, i've been thinking it's me.

with love,
a little wild thing

I.
you know i've always been drawn to the darker parts of
people,
the shades of grey that dapple a soul in impurity--
i adore the artistry of flaws and the orchestration of violent passion.
maybe it's because i've been in the light too long. or maybe it's simply a second nature to want what you're not supposed to want.
I crave the weakness of a sinner in his unfathomable delights.

II.
tempting is my favorite game to play:
i've been told that i taste like a bad habit, walk like an addiction, and have a tendency to leave them wanting more--
but still manage to look like an angel.
that's fine as long as you acknowledge the fact you look like a bad decision that i am more than willing to be hypnotized by.

III.
it almost is painful this reckless longing but it seems
you make me hurt in the places that don't mind hurting.

i.
I have a bad habit of flirting with thunder and lightening.
but it seems you don't mind, fellow storm.

ii.
You might consider yourself fluid, but what about in the sheets?
They say the largest bodies of liquid are pulled by the moon's magnetism and honey, we are 90 percent water--
I guess that makes us pretty wild. Let's converge.

iii.
Weave me like you weave your words and I swear I'll set us both free.