...into the womb of my affection
your ******* are hollering:







"action!"

Bear with me on this please
I've been craving creativity rather absently
Dismally, there's nothing to guide me
No blissful excitement
No helping hand of inspiration
Not even a half beaten idea
Just a need to reclaim
What I feel like I've lost
(Or what's been stolen from me)
These are just some words within lines
Forming a confession to relieve the aimless craving inside

Dear thunder,
If you could come here
And sing me to sleep
A lullaby of a hundred lions
I would no longer miss you so sorely

Surround me with your echoes
Run farther away, but come back stronger
Bring along your light show
Bring along the summer
Because I'm ready to sleep

8:12am

You slid your leg between my thighs.

Were you kidding? Yes.

Did I want you?
                  




                                         ­              Undoubtedly.

(i. r)

I do not like this phase of a heart break.

When you purposely avoid love songs,
Or sometimes you play them just to make yourself feel like your hearts still pounding.

When the person you loved and hid from every waking soul is brought into a conversation.
Or when he isn't.

When you see other lovers who have made it years without the cruel hand of fate ripping their love from them.
Or when you see they haven't.

When you notice him writing you smaller, casual messages when they use to be breathtaking and beautiful.
Or when he doesn't write at all.

When I ask you if I am pushing you away and you say no.

"Alright, happy birthday! Text me later tonight?"

"Will do"

When every hidden goodbye ends with those two words. And my broken, belittled heart.

(i. r.)

nobody warns you about the first boy who tells you he wants to marry you.

nobody warns you about the tangible shift in the universe when he parts his lips to smile.

nobody warns you about the poetry he'll write you or how your knees will weaken or the melancholy hidden between the layers of his laughter.

nobody warns you that miles will morph into lightyears and you will curse the ocean for being the only thing that keeps his fingers from resting between yours.

nobody warns you about the day his sweater doesn't smell like him anymore.

nobody warns you that human hands are incapable of holding a person together.

nobody warns you that sometimes love is not enough, no matter how much you wish it was.

nobody warns you about the crippling nostalgia that renders you breathless.

nobody warns you about the nights when silence screams for your blood.

nobody warns you about the crater that forms in your chest in the middle of the night when he doesn't answer.

nobody warns you about how it's going to feel when he tells you he's in love with someone else.

nobody warns you that forever is a lie.

- m.f.

Does a sociopath love?
does the child who pinches the girl sitting next to him in kindergarten?
The tongue tied middles schooler
hey.. uh.. um.. I was like... well.. just wondering... You wanna like maybe... dance or something
the text recipient writing four drafts of his response reading:
what are you doing this Friday night?
The jolt of lightning which rips through his body
a current sent from her through their clutched hands
or the girl who blushes when Prince tall, dark, handsome, and charming
looks her in the eye and smiles
we all stand on the edge of the cliff
waiting to be pushed
praying that they are there when we hit the ground
with a hug, a coffee, and a thick blanket
we all want somebody to love us in the ways we could never love ourselves
so we might be complete

so there's a girl
***** her name
that matters to me,
but not you
she's my best friend's girl
but she's great
we click just like how I can't snap
She's a good chick
and I never say chick
but she's cool
she makes him happier
but she makes me happier