You’ll never get what you truly deserve if you remain attached to what you’re supposed to let go of.

literally all i want is to fall asleep on someone

I don’t have photos of you anymore, but I still have the memories.

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.

I want you, Everything from your mussed up hair, To the stardust in your lungs. The stars in your eyes, And the heartbeat in my chest when you smile. I want the shaking I get when you talk to me first, And the glazed look in your eyes at 6AM. I want you, And all the things I used to think I could live without.

I have done bad things. I can’t take them back, and they are part of who I am. Most of the time, they seem like the only thing I am.

I’m a woman of lit candles and air freshners scattered throughout the house. The scent always changes. I like to listen to music created from this era that sounds like it’s from the 60’s. I like to listen to music from the 1800’s. The sound of just piano keys and orchestra’s is as visually appealing to me as that woman with the panda backpack and hairclips for accessories. I’m strange, I blend so well with any crowd in a matter of hours. People cannot match me. Wear the same outfit, and see who stands out. I’m a foot in a sea of fingers. I could’ve been popular in high school, I was the exception to the rule. I just choose to be everyone’s friend, instead of everyone’s fake. I’ve never tried to be anyone other than myself. My true issue? I give it up faster than anyone would ever want to give anything to me. And by it? I mean my heart. That’s the strangest fucking thing about me. I’ve been trampled, crushed, beaten down, heart-broken, to the highest and extremest degrees. But here I am, ever so odd, with this ever-beating heart, this astonishing organ, striving, to reach it’s far destination— home.

After you, hell should be easy.