She's a mess.
The smallest fall of snow is a blizzard in her mind
And the cold is incurable.
So she sleeps when she can,
And wakes when she must.
Until, of course,
The day she can replace his old t-shirt
That she wears to fall asleep
With his strong and kind arms.
And she can replace the cold night air on her lips
With his.
So her dreams are stuck in euphoria between goodnight and goodmorning kisses.
That's how she'll survive the snowfall.

He's a California hurricane.
The sunset over Venice Beach.
He's the lights of Los Angeles,
The summer sun
And the gentle rains that blow across to Arizona.
He doesn't need coffee he just wakes to the breeze coming his way.
He's an earthquake and a soda, a busy freeway after morning yoga.
He's 40 million people laughing and crying and building and dreaming all at once.
And he's all mine.

If she could grow up to be anything in the world,
She'd be the last thought on his mind before he falls asleep at night.
Or maybe the last person he danced with to the sounds of the winter evening.
Hers would be the last lips his taste,
The last goodnight he whispers as she drifts to sleep on his chest,
The last hand he holds onto
She'd be his last first date, his last first kiss, his last first dance
The last, greatest love of his life.
If she could grow up to be anything in the world,
She'd be his last choice.

Why do we waste our time on people who don't even care about us?
'I'm fine.'
'You don't look fine'
'Then stop looking.'

I'll never look at myself and see beauty. "It's always my fault."

You broke her.
You told her time and time again
that nothing she does,
ever, is good enough.

Imperfections are beauty,
madness is genius and
silly is better than boring.

"It's funny the ideas I come up with at late night.
If only I was crazy enough to go through with em."

-What a beautiful sight to see you alive.

I'll pick up the broken pieces 'til I'm bleeding if that'll make you mine.

Sadness touches
everyone

even the one's

who shouldn't be
sad at all

I'm so broken.
Leave me be.

No.
I want to fix you.

*I am sick
of waiting
for something good
to happen. *
-k

How could it happen that you meet a person
And in one short moment
You can feel them rattle every bone in your body
So the rest of your time is spent dousing the flames they sparked inside you
And hoping they're doing the same.

He would stand in the doorway every morning if it meant he could
Memorize the way she cradled the coffee in both of her hands.
And how her mouth kissed her cup hello, still too hot to drink.
He hated how the sunrise always ran over her face before he could even open his eyes to watch her breathe in the day,
But she made up for it in how her feet never truly touched the ground
And her perfume took residence in his pillow so even when she left
She was still there.
It wasn’t hard for him to realize that she was as much a part of his home as the socks that always found their way back under the bed.
And he’d never be able to look at that old, goodwill coffee machine again
Without thinking of the weight of her presence rising and falling on his chest.