i want…

i want a mickey rourke.
someone to look at me with those burning eyes. eyes which already know all the answers to the questions which he will ask. questions which will lead me, pull me, to the places i fear to go. he will say “do it for me” and i will have no choice but to comply.
he will own my body when he tells me how beautiful i am to him even as i know it’s not true. i will give myself to him because he knows everything about me which i strive to hide from everyone, especially myself.
he will touch me once and my skin will burn for days, emanating from that small spot, crawling along my body until i am engulfed in flame — thirsty, unquenchable flame — dampened only by his skin against mine again. and again. and again.
i want a mickey rourke.
i want to be swallowed whole by his power over me. i want to be both completely weak and infinitely powerful when i’m in his embrace. he will make me his slave and in turn i will master his broken heart.
i want a mickey rourke.