The most **** thing about a guy has nothing to do with his clothes, hair or eye colour.

It's in the way he looks at you with longing, when you finally find out he wants you just as badly as you want him.

When he pulls you so close to him that there is literally no space between you, because he can't stand the thought of there being any.      

When he kisses you, so that it feels as if he is stealing the air from your lungs, and for those few seconds you forget what air even is.
    
When all thoughts go out the window and its just him, with you,in the most simple way possible.

Now that is the definition of ****.

& when people ask who's it about
I cringe a little

There's times where I wonder if I'm good
or if it's good
or if he's even good enough

they say dating a writer makes you immortal
so what does that make us poets?

My eyes get too tired and sometimes it's only the afternoon
My hands can't keep up with my mind most of the time
which is the most frustrating thing ever

I'll be in the shower and midway have to stop
just so I can allow the passing thought to be written down

But worst of all
it hurts to be so good
but unwilling to see the beauty in your own poetry
because you're too busy looking at who's it about
or why you wrote it in the first place