And maybe you’ll need me then
like I need you now.
When I say that I miss you,
I mean something more.
I mean I’ve been biding my time til you kiss me again.
I keep poems like secrets,
then tell them when I’m tired of hiding who I am.
I am missing you most in the silence
between songs on my favourite records.
Sometimes it takes so long for the music to start.
Hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you.– F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night (via darkcallings)
(Source: fitzgeraldquotes)Via it's about to get warm all up in this jazz
“These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triump die, like fire and powder
Which, as they kiss, consume”
your perfume is on my pillow
all i want to do the rest of my life
is huff you down violently.
i know the aces up my sleeve
dont matter to you,
you like me naked, without all the tricks just like i like to
eat the scars beneath your skin for dessert,
lapdance your demons, french-kiss your tears…
I try to tell you this in words…
still, I do better with my fingers on your shoulder
trains riding on hills towards your pulse
i don’t know what id do without
your ribcage vibrating from the inside out
next to me.
don’t know who i’d be without the memory of your eyes staring at mine in the dark
i can see them there
feel them in nightshade
even when you’re a broken current
i’ll love you more than the second before
even when your laugh ends with a crack of pain you’re trying to hide
i’ll sweep up the broken pieces your shadow is trying so hard to carry
with my lips
basketcase with you on a tuesday afternoon
curly-fry my limbs around your body
let you climb on me so you can remember what going up feels like
you feel like the beginning of space
and the end of time.
Reminding me this is all going to end
making me glad I fucking found you
before it does.
I sit before flowers hoping they will train me in the art of opening up. I stand on mountain tops believing that avalanches will teach me to let go. I know nothing, but I am here to learn.– Shane Koyczan (via oofpoetry) Via Explorations
I want to make it easy for you to love me. I want you to trip and fall in love with me. I want you to roll out of bed and slip into loving me. Love is hard enough without doubt, without worry. I want to love you easy. I’ve crossed you off the list of people who could ever insult or offend me. I’ve crossed you off the list of jealousies. We each have lives of our own, lives hard enough with searching for more pain. I am a great wilderness where you are concerned, be lost in me. I am a great emptiness, fall into me. I want to make it easy for you to love me, to just be and love me. Just be.–
Peregrine (via my-grave-is-temporary)
This is one of the most amazing things I’ve had the pleasure of reading on tumblr.
(Source: youreyesblazeout)Via The Traveler
I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it.– Jenna, Waitress (via exoticwild)
(Source: wordsthat-speak)Via I Think You Should Speak Now
There is this girl. That’s how stories begin, yes? There is this girl. I won’t tell you she’s magic. I won’t succumb to the swelling orchestra, the perfect pop song, the knowingly false belief that this is unique, unknown, a singular love. But, truly, there is this girl. And when I’m with her, my mind is quiet. That steady stream of second guessing that always rustled my thoughts disappeared when I met her. It took me several weeks to figure out why things felt quiet.
Everything is in our hands, on our skin, rolling off our tongues. We are face to face…
Deeper. So deep. Everything. Opening up completely. Letting me see down deep into the depths where she feels ugly and undeserving. Telling her things I’m ashamed of and being glad to lay them down in front of her one by one.
This isn’t so scary.
Yes it is. I know it is. And yet it feels like home. Like the home I’ve never known. Like what you think home must be for someone, somewhere. Is it?
“Have you seen her? Tell me, have you seen her?” The Chi-Lites sing inside my head, sway from side to side, snap their fingers. It’s funny how many songs I catch myself singing these days are sad ones. Now, when I’m so happy. But then, this love feels like the sweetest melancholy. Sweet and sad knowing that I’d given up on it. It’s that sweet sadness that comes with the joy of barely missing some terrible accident. You hold your child who nearly drowned and the relief is bound together with the realization of what was nearly lost. You sob. You’re so happy. You hold her.
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