you don’t know what I want

There is a spider who wants to pry the keys from my fingers, but how long will my clutch linger? I want to run towards October, arms thrown up high, reaching for autumn colour. My feet say yes to each and every step it takes to get to you, but my mouth refuses any mention of emotion.

“Excuse me, I want you. I love you, and I want to kick your ass, but I could never — I would never kick your ass.”

Who in the right mind would even say that?

“But I would kick anyone’s ass if they ever hurt you.”

I apologize, I never received my bachelors in flirting. Even if I did, my word work would barely change. Brutality is just honesty given in direct fashion, which I have found to be far more effective in “getting bitches”, as my friends would say. So they say. So they say.


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