let her staunter through twigs, broken leaves and buds of cigarettes.

{Nothing will bloom from them.}

Let her know the difference between the innocence of a white dress and white flowers.

Let her realise the uselessness of a lighter with damp, soggy cigarettes.

{You never needed the latter.}

Let her feel the nervousness of a stranger bandaging a wound,

& then the shyness of the fiftieth kiss.

There is a difference.

Let her know she never needed you, but

The big but is that

she loves him
&
he loves her.

In the crook of their necks,
the two thieves fell in love.
♡

Instead of trying to find the galaxies in someone's irises,
look up.
Right into the sky.

So, then, when you do find a star;
that proverbial twinkle
between
one's eyelashes,
****,
wouldn't you be sure?

I would like to be that girl;
the protagonist that doesn't cry.
Where she is able to push aside fears and tears, like fog on a mirror.
Her hands aren't afraid to be ***** and ******.

But bitterness and anger drool stickily on mine.

Right now, I am what I am.
This is all you get.
And it's not up to myself
for you
to
want me.

Sleepy eyes,
a truthful tongue.

Slow breathing,
a curious heartbeat.

Eyelashes and hair;
a messy scrawl.
Reminiscent of careless ink sketches.

{you're a kind of beautiful.}

They wrote

girl

in the centre of the page.

Word connotations tranfusing into veins of ink.

Pretty synonyms { eyelashes, flowers, cherries, collarbones} lilting with virtue.
A marriage between dainty and fragility.
A wink of buttery pastries & flushed cheeks.

Why the hell did it take so long to put
strong
brilliant { sun & stars }

w-o-m-a-n
{equals}
?

for the fact that
counting stars seem to be a pretty lonely thing to do.