How much do I want you? Would you ask an alcoholic how much they want to drink?

The truth is, I don't want you, I need you. My body feels cold without yours against it. My lips are lonely when yours aren't on them. My tongue longs to dance with yours once more. I must explore every single curve of your body, every angle of your face. I'll count the hairs you have on your head if it proves that I want you. "God, you flatter me so much." You said. I just want you to desire me as much as I do. I'll butcher Spanish as much as you want me to. I'll let you call me an asshat, a douche canoe, if it makes you want me.

So how much do I want you? Mucho, beaucoup, molto, viel. Just so so much.

I don't want you

At least I don't think so

But I need you

Or that is how it feels

Here's the problem

The thing that troubles me

They always say

It's when you know you know

But I am scared

Because with you, I don't

No, we can't. The butterflies that flutter in my stomach at the sight of you won't just die. My skin will always remember the electric waves that your touch sends through it. I can't unlearn the curves of your tattoos, the angles of your face or the way you just fit in my arms perfectly.

No, we can't. Not when I myself stripped in front of you. Of my clothes, yes, but of my shell as well, so that you could see my weakest spots. Not when I tore down the walls that protected me because that's you wanted.

No, we can't. Because it's your face that I see when I wake up. Because my y soul longs for you. Because my body begs to reunite with yours. Because I love you and I can't not. We just ca-

"Yeah, sure... "

*I wrote this a few years back for a school project. We had to invent a superhero's origine story and I thought I would show it.*

My name is Mors Susurro. Ever

since I was fourteen, I can communicate with the dead.

Actually, I have to talk to them. There is nothing I can do

to make them stop talking, except making sure the least

people die.

When I was a teenager, my friends and I played ouija. I

still regret going to that old abandoned warehouse. We

didn't believe anything would happen, alas we were so

wrong. We began the game. At first nothing happened,

but soon things got scary . Lights flickering, doors

slamming shut, creepy laughter all around us. Sophie was

the first to break the rules and take her hands off the

board. “I'm sorry guys, this is too much!” She said as tears

fell down her cheeks. She ran off but dropped dead on the

floor. Her brother Sam jumped up and screamed. He

shook her lifeless body but seconds after he fell dead as

well. The pointer moved and spelled out B-E C-A-R-E-F-U-L. My hands shaking, I moved it to the goodbye symbol.

I safely removed my fingers from the game. Although they

were dead, I still could hear my friends voices. “What

happened?” “Why did you do that?” The closer I got to the

bodies, the louder the words. I ran past old machinery and

heard “Thank god technology advanced, right buddy?” He

was talking to me. I couldn't see him but I knew this was

where he had died. I understood that the closer I got to

someone's place of death, the more I could talk with them.

I wish I had a good motive for saving people, but I'm

selfish. I just can't stand all the voices anymore. I just

don't want more people talking. The ghosts could help me

but I don't want to interact with them. I don't get close to but I don't want to interact with them. I don't get close to

people anymore, since they might die and I'll hear them.

The things dead say are anything but peaceful. I guess

I'm still a superhero since I save people, but I don't feel like one. I'm nothing but a death whisperer.

* Type

* Hate

* Erase

* Leave

* Forget

* Repeat

* * *

Delicious sin

Burning flame

Ignite my skin

Feel my desire

Heat so sweet

Lips on fire

Quench the thirsty

My wild drive

Please have mercy

Color of anger

Yet the shade of love as well

Red, the first arrived

Grapefruit and sunsets,

Spessartite and citrine too

Second act, orange

Look at the bright sun

Or dandelion blossoms

Yellow everywhere

Natural palette

In the trees, plants, the flora

This is to you, green

Cool, calm and frosted

The color of the vast sea

Beautiful, fifth blue

The lovely night sky

Reflected in the ocean

Next comes indigo

Like amethyst shards

Or the sweet grapes on a vine

Purple, last in line

I long for drama. I would give anything to escape the monotonous reality I live in. If only someone could cause a change.

Anything.

I want to fight and joke. I want to feel my heart beat in my chest, blood rushing in my veins, air filling my lungs. I want to cry, laugh, love.

Anything.

I wish for chaos, destruction or mayhem. I wish for something new, good or bad. I wish something happened. I swear, anything special would satisfy me.

Anything

Is what my stepmother told me after I admitted that the only reason I still lived with my father and her was because of my siblings. I suffered so much because I wanted to be a part of their lives and yet they questioned my love for them.

I could also name the time my father called me a hypocrite or when my evil witch of a stepmother said I was a bad friend, but they haven't hurt as much as the first.

They are happily out of my life and I don't want them back.