first war inspo

I care. I care a lot. It’s kinda my thing.

You were my first kiss. Not my first actual kiss, like in second grade when you kiss someone and you get all giggly and grossed out. Not in freshman year when you kiss someone you fully believe you’ll last forever with, then a month later break up with. Not a drunken hook-up that resulted in nothing but a blank vagueness of the person’s tongue in your mouth. You were the first person to make my legs shake. I think my heart dragged down my body and I swear there was an earthquake in my rib cage. You were the first to grab me so tenderly, and make me believe that this kiss was something special. I knew the first time I kissed you it was going to be the start of something. I knew in my gut that you were my first real kiss and my last.

You’re soft, soft like spring flowers and sunsets and the white feathers inside your pillow.

Better to be slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie.

Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.