i am so in love with you

a woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets

you only want me when someone else isn’t filling your bed

i can’t get myself to move on because i might see him again. it won’t be for a while, but it’s not like i havent had to wait a while for something before. there’s also strings attached that he doesn’t know about that prevent me from being able to let go. he has no idea that he was the first, and pretty much only. but how am i supposed to sit here like this for a whole year? i cant. but i also dont know anything else but him, so i don’t want anything else but him. im so stuck and i don’t know how to move past it. and no one understands it.

It’s weird. Acting like we’re two old friends, catching up. But I guess that’s what we are, right? Ghosts of each other’s pasts. Only I still don’t want to be that. I want to be your past, your present, and your future. I want to be your mornings and your nights. Your midday afternoons. I want to spend all my days with you. Every single second of them. I want to hold you and touch your skin. I want the chance to get to know you and all your darkest places. I want you.

I wish I could kiss you for all the seconds of the day. We’d come up for air and that’s it. I wish I could hear you whisper my name. I wish I could touch your face. I wish I could run my fingers over your arms again and make you shudder. “What?” “Nothing, it just feels good.”

I don’t want to look like this anymore. I don’t want to feel like this anymore

living in a lonesome way

I want to talk to him. Tell him I miss him. That I want to hold him. That I want to be held by him. I want to tell him I think about him everyday, all day long. I want to tell him that I want to visit him. That I want to be with him. I want to spend all my days and nights and hours and minutes and seconds with him. But I can’t. I can’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know why. I think it’s partially because I respect myself too much; I hate what he’s put me through. But I also think it’s because I’m scared of what he’ll say. Or, rather, what he won’t say.

I feel like I don’t know you anymore