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Jan 2016 · 467
someone new
quinn collins Jan 2016
i fell in love with you that night,
in your car, speeding
one hundred and twenty-six
down the highway,
your hand clasped around the inside
of my thigh,
your thumb stroking beneath
the leather of my knee high boot

and oh, those knuckles,
i could write pages on those hilltops,
those strong, rough boulders
that could crush me in an instant
if i wanted them to
(and how desperately i do)

while you sang along to the music
so loud it found its way
in my ears and down into my chest,
throwing your head back, belting out,
missing every other word
and every single note,
but you didn’t care and neither did i

i fell in love the next morning,
too, as those same fingers trailed
up the pillar of my neck and
down to where my skin
melts into the fabric of my clothing,
audible shockwaves stirring
in the bottom of my throat, escaping
through the lips i crave for
you to crave, settling
into the small space between us

in my parents eyes
nothing i ever do is good enough,
and some days i can barely find
the strength to look myself
in the mirror,
and other days i pass right through
walls and friends and obligations
as if i were a ghost, a lost soul

but with you, i exist
Jan 2015 · 9.4k
i wrote this on an airplane
quinn collins Jan 2015
“isn’t it crowded in california?” people always ask me
but you should have seen the way it looked from the sky

expanses of empty valleys
mountains of uninhabited ridges
cities that i could touch with my fingertip
much like the stars in the dark night air
and green as far as the eye could see
the silver snow that dotted the land
reminding us not to forget about it

never had i been so far above that i could notice it all
always stuck in my corner of the universe

and you should have felt what i felt
knowing that there are still
areas of my heart that have yet to be
realized and explored and populated
by anyone who is not you

even though at one point
you occupied the spaces
the cracks in my chest and lungs and limbs
so much that i thought you were a piece of me

but the seasons change and so do people
so my winter will be drastically different than my summer
when you climbed out of my life and into another’s

and hearts break and shrink and expand
to make room for different hearts
(mine’s currently in the process of getting rid of you)
quinn collins Dec 2014
loving you was like

seeing how much
could pile up on
my windshield
before everything
was blurred

before i knew
i had to
wipe it all away
quinn collins Dec 2014
I. i tried
rolling around
your name
in my mouth
but quickly
spit it out
because the taste
reminded me of
something like
bitter coffee and

II. last year
around this time
i would have
gladly given you
my heart
on a cutting board
screaming at you
arms wide open
to do with it
what you will
but my
how the earth
has made its way
around the sun
so can you
just imagine
the distance
that i’ve come

III. slowly
you’ve become
something of a
lone star in a
vast constellation
to me
an empty idea
something that
died thousands
of years ago
Dec 2014 · 410
five months since
quinn collins Dec 2014
san francisco’s known for its fog
and new york, its cities
and me, i was known for you

there was no me without you
perched at the end of my name
like a comma
incomplete and anticipatory

but every now and then
san francisco beckons in the sun

new york is more than just
one mass of blurred street signs
and the loud comings and goings
of nameless, faceless people

and i’m more than just
one guy who once upon a time
told me he loved me
quinn collins Oct 2014
i was reading warsan shire
when i got your message
and my foundation shook underneath me
the foundation i built
after the earthquake that was you
and i must have reread it
a thousand times
and i must have thought up
a thousand responses
but never sent one because to do that is
a sign of weakness all my friends tell me
and i can never show weakness or falter
but what about the weakness
you exposed in me
the cracks you chipped further
with your brutal axe
and i can remember the way it felt
to hear you say the words
to know that you let another girl
touch you like i used to
how my chest caved in on itself
and for a while there i lost myself
because i didn’t know who i was
without your name attached to mine
and you have a new girl now
one who doesn’t hold the stars in her eyes
for you like i did
and i’ve ****** my fair share of guys
trying to get the taste of your mouth
out of mine
and my throat is bursting
with things i want to say
words words words
with no meaning except anger and hatred
but i know it would all be for a boy
who couldn’t even tell me my middle name
so i keep it inside me
and they say you should never hold in anything
for fear of coming undone at the seams
but i’m the one
who stitched myself back together
and found my footing again
without you
and i pierced my ears
and got that tattoo on my back
not for you
but to separate myself from you
separate myself from the girl who
would gladly sit underneath your thumb
and i used to count anniversaries but now
i just count days since
and it’s been three months since
you took away a part of me
but it’s a piece that i no longer need
so save it for a day when
she doesn’t fit your mold of a perfect woman
when you remember how much i loved you
for free
quinn collins Oct 2014
you watch as your best friend
comes and goes
with guys draped on her arm
like jewelry
interchangeable and temporary
dripping off of her skin
and clinging to her every word
men who fall to their knees
at her feet

when is it your turn

when will they follow your
trail of smoke
your irresistible smile
and heart full up with love

if i can teach you one thing
it’s that boys will
come and go
candy-coated in charm and
talking of the future
one with you in it
but at times it will feel like
you’re drowning
while they watch from the shore

trust me when i say
that you have to wade through
the shallow water first
in order to get to the deep end

wait for the guy
who sets your world on fire
the guy who ignites the spark
in the pit of your stomach
the guy for whom you’d sit
in the middle of a burning room
as the world continues on
around you
Aug 2014 · 421
moving on
quinn collins Aug 2014
i wonder what you said
to get her into bed

were they the same things
that you’d whispered to me
the ones that made me feel
like the only girl
in your world

how easy was it for you
to reuse worn-out phrases
and tattered words
and make them seem
brand new

how easy was it
to make her believe
there was no one but her

and how easy was it
to give yourself away when
for nine months
you told me i was
the love of your life
when i’d stayed true and

i wrote countless words
innumerable lines for you
and only you
but you showed me
how easy it is
to transfer these elsewhere

he can fit perfectly
into the empty spaces
in any one of my poems
the ones that used to
have your name
hung up like a
do not disturb sign

i thought i’d never be able
to fall in love again
but life does continue on
this earth keeps on spinning

and i wonder what you said
to get her into bed
quinn collins Aug 2014
i bought that book for you,
and marked my favorite pages,
and highlighted my favorite lines,
all so you could know
the colors that were bursting
from inside me,
the things i always wanted to say
but never knew how;
but you never got the chance
to delve in and explore
the words that mirrored
those that were
running through my mind;
you never took the time
to know me as i am,
and not as you wanted me to be;
but there’s a part of me
grateful that you didn’t
and won’t ever be able to,
because i’m saving that moment,
saving myself,
for a boy who will actually care.
Aug 2014 · 253
muscle memory
quinn collins Aug 2014
i’ll kiss another’s lips
to get the taste of yours
off of mine

and it was difficult at first,
the way he and i kept
bumping our mouths together,
because all i could remember
was the way ours used to
shape together

i wasn’t anticipating
his next move,
but rather waiting on yours

my own body was
turning against me

but i’ll learn the contours,
the curves,
the give and take
of someone else’s embrace,
because i know
that’s the path i need to take
to make my body my own,
and no longer yours

i deserve that much
Aug 2014 · 232
quinn collins Aug 2014
“turn it up,” your friend said
that day in my car,
and you told him that
i don’t ever play my music loud,
like i was some sort of killjoy,
the rain on everyone’s parade;
like you were me and you knew why
i did the things that i did.

truth was,
i was so in love with you
that i wanted to hear every word,
every single breath that
came out of your mouth
without anything drowning you out;
i wanted the air to be filled with
beautiful conversation,
not with meaningless noise;
but you’d rather have listened to
someone else’s voice
than to the sound of mine.

i met a boy
who recently took me out,
and i could see the volume in his
dashboard turned all the way down,
and we talked and talked
without the need to fill the silence;
and now i know that i need someone
who will want to soak up my words
like they are sustenance,
who will sing along not to the radio
but to the notes and tones
in my voice.

someone who is
the complete opposite of you
in every aspect.
May 2014 · 324
[ we are a freight train ]
quinn collins May 2014
that night
we fought for the first time.

i opened my mouth
to kiss you goodbye
—you pressed yours to mine,
demure, unsure,
as if you’d never explored
my entire body,
let alone my lips—
but we were on different pages.

and i was suddenly aware
that something had changed,
that our world had shifted
like a car
swerving to avoid a roadblock.

and i was suddenly aware
how much
i still loved you and
how much
i wanted our world to get back
on track—
and never get back off.
May 2014 · 271
i'll tell you a secret:
quinn collins May 2014
[ i put flowers
in my brother’s
box of cigarettes
along with a picture
of myself
just to remind him
of what he’d be
missing ]
May 2014 · 528
to quote from foreigner:
quinn collins May 2014
i want to know what love is,
that what i’m feeling
isn’t just a mirage,
a trick of my dehydrated heart.

i want you to take my world
between your two hands
and stop me from spinning
in dizzy circles on my axis.

i want a guarantee that
i’ll never be looked at
by someone else the same way
that you look at me.

(i want you and only you.)
May 2014 · 231
quinn collins May 2014
because life is far
too short

because you can somehow
find me
even at two in the morning
(i think i saw you
in my dreams)

because you always seem to
take the shape
of the words on my page

because you are
a castle whose tower
i’d like to climb,
a fortress whose walls
i’d like to tear down

because the thought of
you leaving
chills me down to the bones
and no one else
has ever given me

because you've seeped
into my veins,
my lungs,
into every pore
on my fragile skin

because you are
every speck of dirt
underneath my fingernails,
every grain of sand
in my windblown hair

because all the others
bore me

so i choose you
every time
May 2014 · 214
not a poem.
quinn collins May 2014
they played our song today, and it all came rushing back to me, all at once, like i'd stood up too fast: there i was, sitting next to the raging bonfire, chilled to the bones, despite its incessant warmth; and there you were, across from me, distant, despite the skin on our hands kissing intimately; and there you went, drunkenly stumbling away toward your friends, toward something better, singing at the top of your lungs a song that i wanted you to whisper solely to me.
and he asked me how a guy like you could break my heart, and i told him i was in too deep: i was at the bottom of a deep, dark hole and you were at the top, hollering down to me; and all the anger, the lust, the frustration, every twisted emotion you ever made me feel, came to a boil, bubbling over my surface and out onto my tear-stained cheeks; and i wondered, after almost a year, how you still had this kind of hold on me, when i'd told you goodbye and meant it, how you could get me to feel something i thought i'd forgotten, how i was quick to defend you like you never defended me.
but no more.
i've had enough.
quinn collins May 2014
i can tell you about every boy
who’s ever held a piece of my heart
in his hands:

I.     my first love (or so i thought):
       the one who sang all the right notes
       and kissed all the right places,
       sending my body a-humming,
       the one whose goodbye
       sounded like a sweet melody,
       the one who had me believing
       i had stopped the music,
       that i was at fault

II.   the one that never really saw me:
      always looking over my head
      to the next best thing,
      always full up with big city dreams
      and castles in his skies

III.   the boy who couldn’t pick me
       out of an empty room:
       the one who grabbed my hand
       and held so tight
       that i almost forgot it hurt,
       the one who left and came back
       like nothing had changed
       when i tried my hardest to forget,
       when i’d promised myself
       to never be a second choice again

IV.  my one-night stand:
       the one i’d spent years
       daydreaming of and, in minutes,
       had reduced me to half my size,
       because i thought love existed
       somewhere within the thread count
       or in the feeling of the cotton,
       the silk, against my bare legs

V.   you:
       but our story hasn’t ended yet,
       only just beginning,
       and if i could pick up every penny
       off of every sidewalk,
       i would,
       just to toss them all over my shoulder
       into a wishing well
       and make our forever come true
May 2014 · 220
actually last night
quinn collins May 2014
tonight i’ll leave
the window open
because the summer air
feels fresh and new,
full of possibility

tonight i’ll sleep
without the covers
because the blankets
weight down on me
like regret
and suffocate my skin

tonight i’ll listen
to my entire music collection
and laugh at
the songs that used to
make me cry,
the ones that
reminded me of you

tonight i’ll throw caution
to the wind
and tell that boy
that i love him
because you taught me
what love wasn’t

tonight i’ll stay up
until my eyes shut themselves
because i have nowhere
to be
in the morning light

tonight i’ll finally
discover myself
Apr 2014 · 212
quinn collins Apr 2014
they say that
a person’s heart
will beat about
2.5 billion times
in a lifetime
and ever since
i met you
i’ve felt

e  v  e  r  y

s  i  n  g  l  e

o  n  e

of them.
quinn collins Apr 2014
i spent the first couple years of my youth
with my arms crossed tight around my stomach,
arranging myself in the mirror to see which ways
would make others see me how i wanted them to,
twisting my body into shapes it wasn’t designed for,
trying to find some semblance of beauty.

you kiss the creases where my body folds in on itself,
the marks where the skin on my thighs
stretches apart, not quite reaching itself,
the tangled mess that is my hair,
and you still find it somewhere within yourself
to tell me that i am the very semblance of beauty.
Apr 2014 · 320
quinn collins Apr 2014
i’m not asking anyone
to understand

how i love his chubby stomach
or the way his hair
sticks up all over the place
and feels rough
against my fingertips

how i love the way
he talks and talks
without taking a single breath

how i love when he laughs
and his eyes squint together
and the noise
reverberates around the room

and i’m not sure i even
understand it,
how he loves me

in the room women come and go
talking of michelangelo

but no sculpture
could come anywhere close
to epitomizing him
Apr 2014 · 311
modern warfare
quinn collins Apr 2014
i hate that we only understand each other
when we are exposed,
standing in no man’s land

when we’re pressed together,
all weapons put aside,
your arms tight around me
and my fingers digging into your skin,
hands frantically exploring every inch
they can find,
breathing in every breath
the other lets out

that we’re only in sync when
our bodies move together
as one carnal being

that without our ceasefire
every word between us turns into
a biting bullet

they say love is a battlefield
and if that’s so
then my body is a warzone
and you’re the friendly fire

but we continue with this modern warfare
because it’s the only way we know how
Apr 2014 · 262
ready or not here i come
quinn collins Apr 2014
tonight i was going to tell you
that the universe exists in your eyes

that yours are the only words
i’ll let into my head
curling around my brain like smoke
and settling into the dark corners
who have never heard something
so beautiful before

that love isn’t just a placeholder anymore
for the moments you make me smile
but rather a creature that
dances, dances, dances with a purpose

that someone somewhere
is looking down on us
smiling at the beautiful mess he created

tonight i was going to whisper
all these things softly
into the small space on your neck
where my lips find solace

but you weren’t ready to hear them
quinn collins Dec 2013
from the moment
that we met,
from the first time
you breathed my name,
something inside me
had burst into flames,
was born again.
you didn’t know it yet,
but i had tied a string
around your wrist
with the other end
around mine,
and although
it’s been a few years
and it’s been stretched
and twisted
and tangled
and frayed,
it has never broken.
somehow i knew that
in the end
you were my one,
and i’d always have to
be able to find my way
back to you.
Dec 2013 · 567
more than sublime
quinn collins Dec 2013
saying you’re anything
less than the love of my life
is like saying the world is
a mere grain of sand
the sun just a fireplace and
the universe only a pit stop
on the way to the big city
Dec 2013 · 372
under the influence
quinn collins Dec 2013
just one taste
of your lips
like a drag from
a cigarette

just one drink
of your love
like a sip from
a flask

and i was
Dec 2013 · 355
stronger, pt. III
quinn collins Dec 2013
there’s someone new
in my life currently,
a boy who has taken over
your role and acted it out
better than you ever could.
you made me afraid
to dive headfirst
or march into love
with a blindfold over my eyes,
but i see now
that you were a warning
and not an example.
his gentle hands
and gentle eyes
show me what it means
to love and be loved,
a lesson i would have
never learned if
you hadn’t taught me
exactly what love wasn’t.
(every day i am stronger.)
Dec 2013 · 349
a poet in love
quinn collins Dec 2013
i could write a million different combinations
of letters and words, a thousand ways
to tell the world how i feel about you,
and you’d still have only the one.
you say i love you and all i feel is
a stabbing pain in the middle of my chest.
you see, i find it unfair that my words
blossom and expand and touch the sky,
and yours are as predictable as a hurricane,
noticeable from a thousand miles away.
i’m supposed to be in love but it feels like
the scales are tipped in my direction,
and what a peculiar thing to be worried about
when i have someone who would
take the stars out of the sky for me.
sometimes i don't know what i feel.
Dec 2013 · 287
quinn collins Dec 2013
i usually fling around
“i miss you’s” with no care,
with no intention
of ever following through,
but you came and changed
my entire philosophy:
you gave life to the words;
now they’re up
and dancing around,
yearning to do what
they were meant to do,
living, breathing creatures
that suffocate without you,
just like me.
(when you’re not here,
a part of me is missing.)
Dec 2013 · 2.4k
rock climbing
quinn collins Dec 2013
the saying goes
“falling in love,”
like love means diving
into the ocean
without knowing how deep
the water flows,
like it’s a leaf drifting
side to side
softly to the ground.
for me,
it was like climbing up
the side of a cliff
with nothing but
my two arms
to support me.
you were the biggest
i’ve ever had to overcome,
but baby,
i reached the top
and the view
sure was beautiful.
Dec 2013 · 532
second to none
quinn collins Dec 2013
i learned the hard way that love
doesn’t mean staring down the barrel
of a loaded gun,
telling me it’s his way or no way at all.
no one can ever make me
compromise my values,
not even the sweetest face (you),
not even the smoothest talker (you),
not even the gentlest touch (you).
i see you in every landscape,
every arrangement of orange leaves
on the autumn trees,
the snowfall on the tall mountainsides,
and i feel you in the hot sun
that beats down on my skin,
but i can’t keep dancing around
the words on my tongue,
the ones that keep trying to
pry open my lips, gasping for air,
begging to be set free.
no one can recalibrate my mind
to suit his needs, his wants.
we promised love to each other,
but even that isn’t enough for me
when my concerns, my beliefs,
aren’t second to none.
Nov 2013 · 452
quinn collins Nov 2013
i don't think
i can ever say
"i love you"
to make you
its immensity
Nov 2013 · 977
unhealthy, pt. II
quinn collins Nov 2013
i know this isn't fair,
but i can't help but feel
a hint of jealousy
when any of your attention
is focused on anyone else,
and it can't be healthy
to want someone so badly,
but i do: i want every bit,
every little fragment of you,
every second of every day
Nov 2013 · 463
quinn collins Nov 2013
we can disentangle
our fingers from each other,
our legs and our lips from
their newly-found partners;
we can separate
our simultaneous gasps for air,
tear our gazes away,
and keep our intense touches
from setting fire
to one another’s skin.
but what we can’t do is
untangle our minds;
we can’t isolate our hearts,
creating a wall between,
and force them to pulse
on different beats,
or make ourselves forget
why it is we fell together
in the first place.
because even when
we’re not together,
i’m tangled up in you
and i hope
you’re tangled up in me.
Nov 2013 · 615
quinn collins Nov 2013
my words tend to trip over themselves
on the way out of my mouth,
almost like they’re racing to see
who can get to you first,
even though they never make sense.

i don’t have anything that i am good at
or know every bit and piece about,
something i can reconstruct
to make you understand why
it holds a special place in my heart.

nobody taught me how to fall in head first,
give myself completely to someone,
and not worry about the innate insecurities
that have always been present
in the back of my mind.

i am nowhere close to perfection,
but can you find it within yourself
to pick up all my broken parts
and try to make something of a girl again?
(because with you i feel beautiful.)
quinn collins Nov 2013
time seems to slow down exponentially
when you’re staring at the hands of a clock:
a minute can seem like a lifetime;
look away and they will change,
as if they were too shy to do anything
underneath your watchful gaze.

you were like this:
i didn’t know what i wanted until
i was no longer searching for it,
until you came from out of nowhere
and made me see what i’d always wanted
but never knew how to figure out.
Nov 2013 · 424
carpe diem
quinn collins Nov 2013
i saw the clouds light up with color today,
a scene perfect for a picture,
but as i went back to capture the moment,
it had gone and passed,
a fleeting second in time.

most moments are like this,
here one minute and gone the next,
and it’s difficult to grab them
when we’re too busy looking to the future,
too busy imagining other possibilities.

you see, i don’t know what i’d have done
if you hadn’t been there,
and i hadn’t been there,
and the moment didn’t present itself,
wasn’t ripe for the picking.

(i think i could be falling in love with you.)
Nov 2013 · 332
all of you
quinn collins Nov 2013
hands clasping hands,
skin pressed against skin,
toes kissing toes,
lips melting into lips

and yet i still wish
there were a way
for two bodies
to be even closer
Nov 2013 · 551
i don't deserve you
quinn collins Nov 2013
driving back home tonight,
taillights, lines, signs,
all blurring in my vision
because i’m too busy thinking
of the ways i could have
made things as perfect for you
as you made them for me
Nov 2013 · 449
growing up
quinn collins Nov 2013
i remember how much
i despised coffee
when i was younger:
i’d wake up and smell it in the air,
sniff the contents of my father’s mug,
nose crinkling up at the scent,
and now it’s the only thing
waking me up in the morning,
keeping me up at night,
pushing me through the day.

this is growing up,
my mother tells me.

and i don’t mean to be,
but i’m surrounded by boys
with dimples that **** me slowly,
who think love lies
on the surface of my skin,
who know how to expertly manipulate,
and i’m stuck in an inescapable maze,
running on my wheel as fast as i can,
never going anywhere.

this is growing up,
i hear my mother’s voice
ringing in my ear.
Nov 2013 · 454
creatures of habit
quinn collins Nov 2013
we are creatures of habit:
give me love
and i will return it
but rip it out from under me
and i will go on
loving you
as if nothing was different.
we are creatures of habit
no matter how much
it tears my heart to shreds.
Oct 2013 · 1.7k
a geometry lesson
quinn collins Oct 2013
in math we learned about parallel lines,
always moving in sync,
always in the same direction,
but never crossing, never touching,
and i went home, crying,
cursing the universe for being so cruel,
the pure tragedy of the fact
rattling me to my bones
and into my soul.

but the next day,
we learned about perpendicular lines,
coming together and meeting in the middle,
but separating, parting ways,
never to see each other again,
and i sat there, silently fuming,
and asked my teacher
why things have to be like they are,
the one question she couldn’t answer.
Oct 2013 · 300
falling out
quinn collins Oct 2013
i never understood how people could
fall in love and stay that way:
once i’m in, i’m banging down the doors
for someone to let me out.

just last week i was writing pretty words
about you, all for you,
how i wish you were by my side and
what i would give to make that wish true.

you’re mine now, and at first
i thought all the loose ends in my life
had finally been *******,
that all my problems would be resolved.

but now i know that those problems
lie in the chambers of my heart,
and nobody, not even you, not even me,
has the power to fix them.
sometimes i wonder if i'm incapable of love.
Oct 2013 · 477
quinn collins Oct 2013
my downfall is that
i always think too much:
it manifests itself
in my brain,
spreading to,
infecting every cell,
every synapse,
until i’m living out something
i don’t even know
if i believe in
Oct 2013 · 263
more than just a word
quinn collins Oct 2013
i hate you
you screamed to me

but you’ll never hate me
as much as
i hate myself
I feel like crying tonight.
Oct 2013 · 595
a lesson in psychology
quinn collins Oct 2013
today we learned about
unconditional positive regard,
and my professor asked us,
in your current relationships,
do any of you feel like
you have to be someone
or something you’re not?
and i smiled

because i don’t know
what that feels like:
you love me for all my flaws,
my ups and downs;
i didn’t have to rip any petals
off of any flowers
to know this—
you proved it to me.
Oct 2013 · 702
quinn collins Oct 2013
there’s a boy who has my heart,
with gentle hands and gentle eyes,
who loves me unconditionally,
who would give me the world
wrapped up in a pretty box if he could,
whose mouth travels no further
than to my own,
who shows me what it means
to love and be loved.

there’s a boy i see every week,
with dark eyes and hands
that look rough and ruthless,
who shows me that i’m human,
flawed and full of rage, lust, fire,
whose mouth begs to meet mine,
dares me to make a thousand mistakes,
who pushes my imagination
into the most primal parts of my mind.
you guys, i love my boyfriend, but there's this other guy, and i'm just a human being. i can only control my feelings so much.
Oct 2013 · 740
cliff diving
quinn collins Oct 2013
i’ve always been a little lost
a little scared
a little anxious
because not knowing
what’s on your mind
makes me want to run away
and not look back

so excuse me
if i make a fool of myself
if i trip over my own words

because it’s better
to play it safe
than to take a leap of faith
without knowing what awaits me
at the bottom
of the cliff
quinn collins Oct 2013
i’ve never really known what love is.

i’ve seen my mom cry
too many tears and my father leave
too many footprints out the door, heard
too many silent arguments,
felt the weight of
too much tension in the air
come crashing down onto our heads,
to get a good grasp on the concept.

i was drenched in what others
wanted me to be when you found me,
broken and whimpering,
and i couldn’t have told you the difference
between love and appreciation.

i’ve never really known what love is.
but with you i think i can learn.
Oct 2013 · 227
let's go back
quinn collins Oct 2013
i wish time was able to go backwards:
we only got to have one kiss
before the earth shattered
and crumbled to pieces around us,
and i can’t help but think of all
the other ones we could have shared.
i want to go back to when you and i
were fused into one being,
but i keep overthinking
and stepping in my own way.
i don’t want you to be a vacation,
but a permanent home.
you left your mark on my heart:
just know that
you’re the one to whom
i compare everyone else in my life
who tries to fill the void
that you left behind,
the one you hung your name on.
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