I'll make you come with me to get my skin inked as a first date, and I'll never explain the meaning of the forever words in my skin, or why I already have 3 words that live within me plastered in my forearm, or why I caress it so often

I'll text you every now and then and be flirty, then ignore you for a couple of days... Just to come back and beg you to kiss me, then I'll take things a bit too far and touch you down there... Maybe twice, turn my cheeks red and pretend nothing happened

Then I'll ignore you for two days more.

On the third day, I'll go to your house, lightheaded, and get drunk on your green eyes I haven't properly admired yet, tell you how my dogs are my most valuable thing or how my Pandora bracelet carries a couple secrets, never really letting you know about them.

You'll admire how mature I am, how driven and eloquent I am with words. You'll laugh at my attempts of being funny and I'll bite my lips and wish you understood I want to taste you entirely.

And maybe I'll bring myself to it and you'll probably forget it, but I'll add you to my list and draw a heart next to your name. You know, just in case.

Month 3 and you'll get bored on my schedule, how I'd rather stay silent and drunk and cry and write, of the hours I don't spend loving you because I have already lost so much **** time loving everything else, and you'll leave...

Silently, paciently, waiting and expecting me to turn my head and look for you. But I wont. Because I'll be hoping you come back.

And I'll be ruined for a few months, fill this page with sad and obnoxious poems about how love isn't real and then...

I'll get another tattoo appointment.
And the cycle repeats.