congratulations on your debut, wanna one.

‘Don’t let this become another story’. That’s what he said to me. Right after we didn’t even kiss just made love with our hands 'Don’t let this become another story’. I wanted to say to him: Too late. It already is one. You wrote it out on the back of my neck I wrote it out on your collarbones - we had conversations on each other’s bodies that only we could understand. And I know that it was in some old forgotten language and that we’re too young to feel anything significant but I’d like to think that whatever half-assed little something we were feeling has a right to be made known. See, I don’t know how to live in anything other than stories. It’s like a label I can give all the bullshit to make it feel worth something, it’s like a label I can give myself to make me feel worth something - I’m a story, I’m a thousand stories, I’m too many stories to read in one lifetime. Because a poet knows a lot of things, but one thing a poet does not know is how to love with only their hands. When a poet loves they love with their teeth. With their eyelashes. With the soles of their feet. A poet loves elbow-deep in sentences without full stops, finger-painting their dreams as if that will make them come true. A poet loves with their heart stuck to ink-stained sleeves, a poet is never clean. There’s always a little burn mark, a little bruise, a little shadow of too much truth. Sometimes I wish I could experience something that wasn’t important enough to tell you, something that didn’t leave me scarred. But I don’t. And I won’t. And I can’t. I’ve got too many gory parts, too many chapters to get stuck on, too many pages you don’t want to turn but turn anyway. I’m the kind of girl with a heart too big for her chest so you’ll find it in my fingertips instead. But these fingertips are not made just to touch you. These fingertips are made to trace the colour back into the black and white side of living, to sieze shooting stars and make them stay, to weave themselves into the soft and broken and bleeding parts of each body they touch and turn them into a story, into something extraordinary. And that’s exactly what I’ll do. And that’s exactly how I’ll love you.

♥‿♥

Yunhyeong leading baby Junhoe

me at school.

Wear shirts like that more often.. thanks.

just yoyo shooting your heart ;)

yoyo was so happy to see his dad ヾ(^▽^ヾ)

get like me

Kim Cat (=•x•=)

cr: to the owner