You don’t believe me when I tell you that I like the noises you make when you sleep
And I don’t believe you when you tell me that my voice is your favorite sound,
Not when you can sing like that.
One of your ex’s name tastes like stale coffee
And the other one burns as if I’ve swallowed a scalding pot.
You don’t understand why I don’t discuss my first love with you
But how am I supposed to tell the sun that I once fell for the moon?
If I could, I’d pay rent for the spaces between your fingers,
So if anyone else tried to intertwine their hand with yours,
They would be trespassing.
I’m very good at useless metaphors
And very bad at telling people how I feel
But on our worst nights, you’re snow in the month of March
and even though I’m sick of winter,
I will never stop appreciating the beauty of a blizzard.
- All About Us, #1 (via spvandi)
(Source: attuition, via gutterflovver)
I don’t mind getting naked or seeing you naked. I don’t mind talking about sex or having sex or never having sex. I don’t mind my body or your body with mine. I don’t mind your sweaty palms, your chapped lips, your dirty tongue. I don’t mind your noisy music, your crappy poetry, your soiled shoes and ugly handwriting. I don’t mind 2ams and late night phone calls, stolen kisses and white lies. I don’t mind your half-eaten donut, frozen teabags and sticky hair. I want your toothbrush’s head leaning towards mine. I want your 4am back massage. Cup my breasts and don’t say they’re small. I already know that. Kiss me once and kiss me more. Pretend what we’re doing is illegal. It’s always good to be caught with our mouths tied together like handcuffs. Dry your cheeks and make me bleed. Crave me. Crave me. Crave me.
- (via thewastedgeneration)
(Source: talkingoutsoft, via gutterflovver)
my x men ability will appear soon i can feel it
- me last year/two months ago/a fortnight ago/today/eight seconds ago (via peggycxrter)
(Source: quicksllvr, via kehvannn)