I could sit here and eat one thousand strawberries but I'd never find one that is as sweet as your lips

Your bones creak as he holds you
You hope he doesn't hear

He hears them softly whisper
And he exhales deeply "don't fear"

His bones are also weathered
Some of his tendons, torn

But do not be ashamed
Of your bones so old and worn

As he, just like I, have been there
so many times before.

i had the chance to
sell  my    soul  and

when  they    asked
me  what   i wanted
         in     return

all  i  said  was  you

I shouldn't try to twist my jagged edges down into smooth bumps. There's no use trying to pretend I've never tried to jump.

it's a good thing i look beautiful when i cry

*******,

we're going to spend so long ******* around that by the time you actually decide that you want something from me,

I will have found someone else.

I need to find someone else.

who won't

say one thing,

and do the other.

who is exactly my type,

and is nothing like you.

I'm sorry your soul calls to mine like the wind through the trees, gently whistling my name as you pass by

I wonder sometimes what
you think of me

if i'm crazy or beautiful
is it one or the other?

"poor little rich girl,
with her pretty face,
her well-off parents,
her mental illness,
and all the *****, drugs and hair dye she wants.

you'll
be
fine"

the lump in my throat grew,
pulsating,
larger,
and larger,
i feared i would choke to death
on the internalisation
of my own emotions.

I want to reach inside you

I want to

touch the

darkest parts of your soul

never dull yourself so that someone will blindly fall for you. you're iridescent and anything less just isn't you.