She's like a Lana Del Rey Song
Beautiful, deep, and once it gets stuck in your head - you can't get it out

She's beautiful in more ways than one, maybe it's her personality or it's the way her hair falls past her shoulders or maybe it's the way she looks at you with those eyes. Oh Those eyes that makes your heart race because you know they're on you. Those eyes you wish you could wake up to them in the morning. You find her actions cute and maybe that's another reason why you think she's beautiful. The way she calls you an ******* when you tease her the fact that you and her can have a cute playful relationship. Her giggle her laugh it's so beautiful, you can't help but to smile when you hear it probably because it's so rare to hear. She's beautiful because she is someone that you find interesting and interesting people are hard to come by now a days. Her soul though - you find the most beautiful. The type of person she is. What makes her so beautiful? You think to yourself - it's everything literally everything and you understand she may not understand but you do and well that's enough because you'll make her understand it. You want her to see herself the way you see her.

She's deep in oh so many ways, she writes poetry and reads literature. She's intelligent and it's like a breath of fresh air. When you speak to her even though it maybe about nothing at all so much is being spoken - it's not just in one ear and out the other words it's actual conversation. Those words, her words stick to you. You want to discuss the world with her and her views on life. You want to listen to anything and everything she has to say as she smokes her cigarette. You want to see the world through her eyes even if it's just for a moment. You want to know everything you can about her, the good as well as the bad. You want to know the person she is, you want to know what goes on in her head. Is there a war in her mind like yours? Or is her mind peaceful? She is the exact opposite of you, yet you and her are the same. Would that make sense to her if you tried to explain it? Eh you hope so. Then again would you even explain it to her? Probably not because you'll probably never share this with her for the soul reason of being too afraid to share your thoughts on someone like her to her. You're also too afraid she won't feel the same way, and that scares you.

Then again just like a Lana Del Rey song she can be dark and it's not her fault and she can't help it. But do you care she has a dark side and messing with her is like playing Russian roulette? No in fact - you want to play. You want to take that chance, you think her imperfections make her absolutely perfect. You want to hold her in your arms, you want to push her against the wall and make out with her. You want to prove to her that not all people will **** her over, that there are people YOU who want to give her everything even the things she never knew she wanted until she had them. Others have just let her walk out of their life's like she was nothing. You think to yourself, you would never do that because you are not an ******* like the rest. You want to prove to her that she matters in more ways than one. You want to prove to her that she's worth every ounce of energy you can muster up. Most importantly though - if she left, if she ever wanted to leave would you let her walk out of your life just as easy as all the rest? No you would put up a fight to make her stay, even if that meant getting on a plane immediately to go be with her to tell her she's being ridiculous as you kiss her deeply to clam her down.

She's get stuck in your head and you won't be able to get her out, and you know what? That's okay because just like a Lana Del Rey song those lyrics so hauntingly beautiful you want her in your head. You want to think about what she's doing and if she's thinking about you at that very second. You think about the possibilities of you crossing her mind and if you do does she smile? You sure do hope so. You often wonder what it would be like to kiss her lips and feel her small frame against yours, it's probably pure bliss you think to yourself. You want to kiss her passionately to Burning Desire because for some reason that songs speaks to you about her, and grab her hips holding her close to Gods & Monsters because it's the first Lana song she sang to you and in some way that song is our song. However maybe it's just our song to me, although hopefully it is to her. But you want this and you want that, you can only hope she wants the same. Please want the same you think to yourself. You also wonder what it would be like to drag your teeth against her skin and kiss every inch of her body, yeah I'm sure it's complete bliss. You want her, you want her.

She's like a Lana Del Rey song that's so hauntingly beautiful that you want to leave on repeat.

-soc

sitting in their room:
somebody's looking at a bunch of pills.
staring at a stack of razors.
holding a thick belt in their hand.
or just thinking, contemplating to end it all.
but then suddenly, they think of you.
your smile.
the dimple on your cheek that appears when you smile.
oh god, that beautiful smile.
your touch.
the feeling they get when your soft yet strong hands caress ex their body.
feeling like they're floating, reliving that moment.
your voice.
that sweet voice that asks, "how are you today?" & says "i love you" & "i'm sorry" when they wrong you.
that sweet, sweet voice.
sweet enough to calm monster within.
your hair.
the way it feels. how it curls up when it's wet after you take a swim.
how you hate it when they touch your hair.
your love.
the way you're willing to understand them.
even though you don't, you are willing.
someone, somewhere, could throw those pills away,
throw those razors away,
choose to adorn that thick belt on their waist instead of on their neck,
& choose to hold on.
all because they thought of you.

— @beeyroyce.

keeps me in a trance
somewhere between consciousness
and dreaming
I lay there
replaying every moment
        we spent together
reliving every sweet moment
        our bodies touched
and I still wonder
why I wasn't good enough for you

being dead inside is a paradox.
a contradiction. polar opposites.
you feel nothing at all, but at the same time you're feeling something.
there are no intense emotions yet, feeling so dead inside is an intense emotion in itself.
you're comforted by the fact that you won't feel any bad emotions but
at the same time, you're dissatisfied because you won't feel any good emotions either.
being dead inside is great when your lover leaves you, when your friend dies, when everything comes crumbling down at once ... because you won't feel it as much.
being dead inside is terrible when your lover tries to kiss you, when your friend invites you on a vacation, when everything starts coming together ... because you won't feel it as much either.

The venom leaped from her tongue, Into my ear,
And I wish I could say that
I didn't deserve it.
But in the heat of the moment
I went for the win
Instead of
Letting
It
Go.
Maybe I should have kept
my thoughts
To myself.
Perhaps then we wouldn't be in the predicament
That we
Are in
Now,
Had I took a taken a
Moment
To
Pause.

With her throwing whatever
She can grab ahold of,
That isn't fastened to the floor or wall.
And me,
Hoping to dodge projectiles,
As I stutter through heart felt apologies.
Realizing that my razor coated words
Had finally done the job,
But that I regretted them the instant
They passed over my
Tongue
Teeth and
Lips.

There was no going back
To the argument we had been having,
Before my mouth loosed
What would be my regret
For years
To come.
Because how would she forgive me
If I
Couldn't
Forgive
Myself.
The words had been etched
In stone.

In separate rooms we retreated
Our ceasefire seeming to begin
At the same time
Her arm
Grew
Tired.
Through the wall I could hear her packing,
Between her sobs and screams.
And on the guest bed I sat.
In stunned silence
Shocked that we would
End
Like
This.

When she burst out of our bedroom door.
I rushed to see if I could meet her in the living room,
And as she gathered
Things that
Were hers,
The idea of "ours" having vanished hours ago.
I snuck in words that she would never remember
I'm sorrys
I can't believe I said thats
And
Please forgive mes.
The words pelted her armor, but bounced off
With nearly audible
Pings
And
Tings
My words had created my own Jericho
My former comforting walls,
Now tumbling around me.
As she slammed the door,
Bag in hand and the words
"I'm going to my mother's, don't call"
Hanging
In the blistered air.
I sank into my chair,
The scene
Of
The
Crime.

This morning, the sun peaked from behind the clouds
And as the day went on, it shone brighter
Heat radiating through me
Blushing
Red cheeks
Smiles
Laughter
A brighter day unlike that of yesterdays rain
I didn't see you today
Which made it easier not to think of you
Fool myself that I'm getting over you
Maybe I will
Maybe I won't
Who knows
It's only day two

I fumbled through the stations 
And clicked on every song
But nothing met the silence 
Where your voice did belong 

I replayed each conversation
Remembered every kiss
Hoping I would one day stop
And you I wouldn't miss

then you picked back up the music
And my heart began to dance
You always had a special way
Of putting me in a trance 

I'm screaming don't stop playing 
And spinning round and round 
I know if I'm met with silence
I'll crash upon the ground.

You have my heart, you know it
So to it, please be true 
Because it only knows one song now 
And that song is you.