I have a craving for words, where my mouth feels out of place and my tongue doesn't sit comfortably in my mouth until I can perfectly describe the feelings.
A craving for a fulfillment of indescribable content that your mouth can almost taste.
In the same way that I crave the feeling of your hug while tears run down my face and that one juice that tastes like childhood, I crave words.
- F.T.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 7:52 AM UTC
There's a chaos about him and his beautiful soul. The type that makes the world slow down but makes your head spin out of control when you're with him.
He notices the smallest things I do, like how I go onto my tippy toes and then kiss him on the back of his neck.
How, when I'm driving, I always look at him and smile.
But somehow he's also entranced by his own little world. The way he feels the music as it plays around him and the way he sees the world are all unique to him and it's wonderful.
His dance moves, amuse me, but they show his complete involvement in the music and I can see when he loses himself in the rhythm.
He loves taking pictures but always does the same three poses to show his side and angle he thinks is his best. When in fact they're all his best because he's truly lovely, not only to look at, but also to experience.
Together we can be innocent and naïve yet guilty and experienced at the same time in our actions, words and thoughts.
But when he's not with me and I miss him, I spin around in circles to replicate the feeling of being around him.
I never realized how much I relied on physical contact to feel comfortable in life and without it I constantly feel physically ill.
When the only part of him I have near me are pictures of our past memories, I still get butterflies thinking about him.
His chaos is my happiness.
- F.T.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 6:20 AM UTC
Since I've been gone, I've been trying not to fall in love with you.
I've been trying to forget the fallen stars in your eyes and the battle scars on your body.
I've been trying to forget your touch which gave me comfort and the warm feeling of your breath against my neck.
I've been trying to forget the outline of your body and the soft touch of your lips when you kissed me.
I've been trying to forget how we held hands and how you used to hold my thigh.
I've been trying to forget how you know I hate that you smoke, but how you love to click your Marlboro cigarettes.
I've been trying to forget how you look when you sleep and how you flinch when you're sad.
I've been trying to forget how your whole body shakes when you cry and how you held me.
I've been trying to forget how you laugh and how it always makes me smile.
But I haven't been able to get these things off my mind. I must already be in love with you.
-F.T.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC
Where the sky and the earth meet is where my love is created.
Where it's always just out of reach and not physically tangible. Where the sun visits daily and the birds are in constant pursuit of.
A love that can be seen but never possessed long enough to give away.
-F.T.
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
He is encapsulated by an energy. An energy which is visible from miles away and it's simply and utterly fantastic.
The energy emitted from his smile has the ability to leave you breathless in the most beautiful way.
A soft and warm touch which can render you paralyzed in awe.
Every insecurity escapes as you feel accepted from a single glance.
And as we hug I can feel myself falling victim to the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
His being, his presence is addictive.
- F.T.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 9:47 AM UTC
I just want to be tangled in your arms with my head in the crook of your neck. I want to feel you kiss my forehead as im falling asleep
I want to run my fingers up and down your bare skin. I want to wrap my legs around yours and feel you pull me closer to you
I want go fall asleep and wake up with your scent filling my nose. I want to see your sleepy stares and tired smiles
I want you to steal the blankets from me in the middle of the night and when I try to pull them back, you wrap them around my shoulder
I want you to run your fingers down my spine and kiss me softly. I want you to leave trails of kisses down my neck and my chest. I want you.
B.S.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
The future scares me
Also the familiarity
It’s a little scary
But not as it used to be
Sure it doesn’t get easy
I just learned to find courage
To discover maturity
Not just age
It’s not the fear of future
But of repetition
Of what I used to endure
Of the things I held on
But maybe I have learned
To hold on a little lighter
That if things just turned
I can let it fly better
It is being brave
And bold
Knowing what is good and naive
And what is worth to hold
I have to seek wise
No matter how long is too far
Or the possible sacrifice
Or how scary the waves are
I cannot have it all in hand
This is how life goes
Even when I do not understand
I have to dive brave in to the flows
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
As I sit here at 3am
missing you like hell,
I realize how difficult it will be
when it's gone.
I wonder what it's like to
no longer feel the comfort
of your hands on my skin because
your touch feels like home and
without you I'll seem incomplete.
I think about not
being able to feel your breath
on my neck when we're lying in bed
because it's my security from
my lonely problematic thoughts.
I know thinking about you
will begin to hurt
and I wonder how long it'll be
before I give in.
- F.T.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
Now I'm left trying to figure out which of the broken pieces of my heart, that lay before me, have your name written on them, because they don't belong back in my chest.
-F.T.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 5:38 AM UTC
You made a poet fall in love with you
And expected her not to write sonnets about your eyes
Haikus about the way you kissed her in the moonlight
Expected the fire in her heart not to inspire couplets
You made a poet fall in love with you, and when you left
Expected her not to write pages about the ache in her chest
Write a soliloquy dedicated to her tears
Expected her not to feel every gut wrenching moment of the pen hitting paper like your words hit her in the most vulnerable places of her mind.
You made a poet fall in love with you, and you expected her to be silent.
That is no fault of hers.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 5:49 PM UTC