He’s your 2am and 2pm, He can make you breathless; without him trying.. He became your world. You were trying your best to stop, but you realized it’s too late.
I’ve been there, and it killed me. It was the best thing that has happened to me. Just let it; let the love control you and feel the pain, feel it. Let it flow into your veins until you bleed. Because after that it will surely teach you how to be better. And how to love right..
If I held out my hand would you take it ? it's warmth ready to permeate your soul but what would it tell you of me ? the scar on my finger the wrinkling skin the crooked pinkie the gnarl on my thumb stories to be told if you would only take hold.
Hey babe, I've heard once, some words coming out your **** mouth, you were telling me, and all the others, how I've been everything to you. So tell me now, when you don't have me anymore, does that mean: you have *nothing?
She has ink dripping from her lips. He blames that on the poetry she drinks after each and every kiss she gives to him on his cheeks and ribs. Sometimes in his mouth as she claims that it's her cathedral and the only place where she confesses all of her darkest sins. He sends kisses down her spine. As if it holds the knobs to the doors of her fragile broken soul. Hoping that each kiss will lead him in. This is the story of where their new life begins. There tangled in the sheets of his warm cozy bed. And that was the moment when they both paused and said the best is yet to come. And our young love will live on and on* ~