Trust me, I am the perfect assassin.
I've been trained perfectly, to seek out my enemies,
Anyone who appears weaker than me.
I can sense that lack of strength from a mile away.
I can take them all down in less than a day.
I know what kind of words will make them cringe;
I know how to fight, I know how to win.

I just want somebody who wants
to ******* mind at 3 am
who doesn't get annoyed by my jealousy and by me texting them
in all caps when I'm happy and
texting them 6 times in a row
someone I can walk with at the park
and stay 5 hours on the swings
just laughing and talking about anything that pops up onto our minds
somebody who isnt afraid to catch me when I fall for them
I want someone who
kisses my forehead
holds my hands and
never wants to let go
I want someone who knows me
inside and out and
knows what I'm thinking just
by glancing at me
someone I can sing along
to the radio with
someone who chooses me over anyone else and doesn't think twice about it

I just really want that to be you

j.f

Teach me how to fight. Teach me how to be strong like you so I don’t cry that much. Hold me in your arms when I’m sad and spend the whole day with me to cheer me up. And when it’s late at night and I can see nothing but the light from a window or two in the building across the street from us, I’ll play with your hair until you fall asleep, and we can talk about everything and nothing while we do that, because between you and me, we are exemplary in the art of discussing everything and nothing. I won’t have to miss you because you’ll already be there, but I’ll miss you anyway because I understand the meaning of the word 'ephemeral', and I will worry until I’m fraught about not wanting the sun to come up and for me to leave later on, even though that’s much later on.

In the morning I’ll wake up first. I’ll catch a peek at you, still asleep, prone to really sleeping in. It's okay because we take turns playing hide and seek with self-control. I’ll turn pages in the meantime and then when you wake up we'll idly peruse tumblr, check our phones in case we have any messages from boys we'd sworn ourselves away from, and facebook stalk half the world before we realize we really should have breakfast. And I won’t let you do anything for me except maybe show me where you put the bagels, because I can get a cup myself (you know that I'm a little clumsy but you trust that I won't wreck your kitchen), and I can pour myself some orange juice.

We’ll talk but we’re also quiet, just basking in sunlight and warmth, and the contented comfort of being beside someone else who knows you so well. Later after we’re done with our late breakfast but not quite brunch meal, you’ll give me this look that says “Let’s go on an adventure.” And we scurry off into your bedroom, and get all dolled up and do our makeup but we never make ourselves into people we're not. I borrow a shirt of yours and slip on my flats and a bright scarf and we’re on our way.

Lather, rinse, repeat repeat repeat. This song is on repeat because it’s my favorite song, and everyday I want to spend with you because you are my favorite person.

at 0:01 begin the pangs of the oceans of longing
****, he's so good at guitar,
her voice fills my heart with tremors
she seems to really understand what it feels like
to choke mouthfuls of salt water while looking for pearls in the sea
and i keep listening because i feel that exquisite pain too:
"i don't want to imagine the words you spoke to her that night"
a feeling i've felt again and again

sad silhouettes form in the corridors of my brain
my pillow soaked with the scent of DIY petrichor
you said you loved the smell of rain, didn't you?
cerulean-stained fingernails glide along the screen,
eyes watering at the green and white,
symbols of bare minimum communication
hoping that the letters will rearrange themselves into different messages,
maybe my vision was fuzzy and i read it wrong
was i too distracted by listening to this song?

i laugh because i feel too high school writing this
but that doesn't make it any less accurate
how's that for self-reflection?

he didn't want her to know
about the bodies he stole at night
the lights he took from others
absorbed and snuffed out with his lust
the kisses he gave to cold strangers
and the listless caress he secretly yearned for
he loved her true, but inside he was empty
an inverted soul
desperately gasping for air

she knew so much more than she wanted
she saw him in her minds eye
stealing into the dark
devouring even the starlight
laying in the deep ground
with the cold people of the earth
but her heart shattered long ago
now she was only waiting
for the calamity in the sky
to kiss her homeworld
and make it rain fire

but he came home before the end
just in time for the sky to disintegrate
in time for one last truthfull embrace
two lovers in vestigial embrace
'neath a black sky
vomiting ash and dying birds
no prescence but the silence
no color but the red and the black
no life left in the universe

last seen with mass amounts of tenacity,
bright eyes that glow whenever she talks about the moon,
she's just as loquacious as bodacious, and always seen with friends (a pixie, a well-dressed waif, a girl who speaks the language of skeletons and blood). she's deeply enamored with a certain mexican grill, and often writing or taking a nap on public transportation, or smiling really widely while texting certain person(s) unnamed... also, she knows a hell of a lot about pokemon and the way the human heart works.
oh, and her laugh--you'd notice it. when she laughs you just know something's hysterical

where is she now?

she's a little reclusive
her smile's a little restrained
she stares too often at hourglasses and writes fervently in a leatherbound tome given to her on her 17th birthday.
she's waiting for the storm to pass but for now she's writing about it
don't tell the news i told you this though, cause i know they'll find her and force her to feel better as soon as possible. just give her this clock necklace and put it around her neck and tell her that time heals all things, she's learned this before.
tell her to eat some sour gummy worms and go to bed earlier, and stop feeling so sorry, to listen to a little less john mayer.
tell her it's okay to miss ghosts and that it's okay to wish to not be alone.
tell her to call tonight a night and stop rereading old stories or knocking on enemies' doors.
tell her that it'll be okay (even though she already knows it will)
and i promise you-
this is but the fairy tale trail of breadcrumbs that will bring you the old girl back.