After All This Time, I Still Want You


I fell in love with you the moment we met — you told me your name and all I could think about was how beautiful it would sound coming from my mouth as I laid in bed with you, as I fucked you, as I held you in my eager arms.

You had a wildfire inside you and I was drawn to it because it set my heart alight. You were a messy soul in a beautiful body. You were an effervescent hurricane, still trying to figure out what you wanted. You were a bright horizon that brought me to the edge. You were my favourite shade of blue, and knowing you felt exhilarating to the point of utter madness.

I was not supposed to fall this hard, but I let it happen because your body was too good and your words were too bold for me to stay away. Desire crashed into me like waves and tangled me up in the fantasy of us— out of reach but always there.

You left before I even had a chance. I could barely find the words in my mouth and the nerve in my bones to chase you down and tell you how you made me feel. We could have been pioneers of our own wild love if I had just let you in.

I told myself that you were supposed to get away because if I knew the curves of your lips more intimately, my world would have changed and I was not ready for that. How could I ever be ready for a torrid soul like yours?

I think about you when I want to go to paradise. All I want to do is touch you again but you would barely feel it. I want to hear your voice but there’s too much space between us. I want to fuck you but it’s too late. I want you to care but you didn’t even know.

Letting you go has made poetry feel bittersweet, the coffee in my cup taste melancholic, and the summers feel like heavy rain. I carry pieces of you in my hands because you made me love you too damn easily.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder — and being away from you has only made me realize that I still want you.