There are some people in this world who bring out the best in you. And then there are those who bring out the worst. But there is a third type, the rare kind of person that is extremely hard to find. This is the kind of person that brings out the most in you, whether it be good or bad.

They make you cry at ten pm and then make you laugh hysterically at three am. They gingerly trail their thumb along yours while holding your hand and then stay horribly silent when they see tears tumbling down from your eyes.  They make you love the arguments, because everything they say is driven by ardor instead of acrimony. They make you begin to recognize the genuine affection that is hidden in the smallest of smirks.

They don't gently wipe away your tears and tell you it will be okay, but pick you up by the arm and tell you that yes, life will ******* over. Because they know that this is what is going to get you to finally stand up for yourself.  They tell you blatantly when your jokes ****, and insist on better ones. They make you feel so alive that you know you would follow them straight into hell if it means you can keep getting your fix. They cry easily, but due to the fact that they feel so much, and so much of it is for you.

They aren't your significant other, but they sure as hell give you a significant life.

Your lips pressed softly to mine,
and I swear to god the world stopped.
My heart beat faster,
and my mind went blank.

Months later,
Your hands traced the curve of my back,
and it caused shivers up my spine.
My heart skipped a beat,
and my mind was flooded with thoughts of you.

You held my hand everywhere we went,
and I knew that I was in love.
My heart swelled with happiness,
and my mind couldn't focus on anything but you.

You held me when we watched films,
and I began to crave your arms around me.
My heart longed for you,
and my mind thought of nothing but being in your arms.

You have my heart in your hands,
and have taken over my mind.

It's written all over
the internet that the
color blue is a
appetite suppressor

so why is it
that whenever
i look into
your sky blue eyes
i crave your touch
more than
//ever//

I'm missing you
Even though we've never met
It's an emptiness
That I can't shake
Something like nostalgia
Yet for the future not the past
I want you more than anything
But I don't even know your name
Please hurry to me
I want to feel your nearness
To wake up beside you
Have me please
Because I crave you
I need you

i write about love
yet i know nothing of it
i dream about love
yet i know i will never get it
not the kind of love
your parents give you
nor the kind of love
your friends show you
i crave that kind of perfect love
that will make your heart feel infinite
that the warm feelings
that you cannot possibly put into words
would feel like it would
never end
that kind of perfect love
that would make your skin
feel like electricity
every time you touch
you feel a shoc-
no
that kind of love that
would make you feel
like a thunderstorm
bright and painful
yet a beautiful kind of pain
that you would willingly so
stand in the middle of a rain
i crave that kind of perfect love
that whenever you feel like
falling apart
you know someone will be there
waiting for you
to fall into their arms
and never let go
but who am i to talk about
love
when i can only
write, dream, and crave
that perfect love
i know nothing of

Lord knows
I've fallen into the rusty hidden comfort
of too many mens' arms.

I've found all  the wrong ways of coping,
so what're the right ones?

i crave you,
and i haven't the slightest of clue why.
i just do, and its pathetic.
(i'm pathetic; they were right)
i find myself constantly with these letters
pouring out, forming words,
forming sentences, forming paragraphs
about you, and i know that
you'd not spare me a second glance
if our paths were to cross again.
yet i find that
everything about you, intoxicating
from the ghost smile on your lips to the
humourless laugh that resonates so clearly,
and i find that I love you, so i'll say it one last time
and in return i'll hear yours, barely there;
your soft, petal I love you, too.
(do you really mean it?)
maybe we're just not built to last.
[And our time's up so I'll leave, and I hope
that I'll be able to forgive myself for letting you go.]

Your fingers tell me stories of passion as they tiptoe down my sides. Shivers dance on my skin where your hot breath can't reach.

Can you taste your awakening words, that you gently whisper to my inner goddess? Leave passionate reminders on my body with the sweetness of your kiss and the harshness of your bite.

As I spell out your name with desperate scratches on your back, allow your eyes to forget what is real, and what is a fantasy.

Watch as my tongue speaks the same language as my eyes, and my heart moans the same desires as my mouth.

Seducing your soul,
I exist in you.