I promised myself never to give in Never to be the hostage of my emotions Never to let my knees turn to jelly Never to **** and never to hope Never to trust nor elope But your fingertips are magnets And every piece of my body that you touch My skin follows, giving in to your warmth Begging for more, begging for you I'm letting you take over and control for me Feverishly, I watch you handle my life Piecing things together, tearing some apart And as if you were magic I sit back and think: "I am so glad you have my heart".
I’m well acquainted with the eyelashes on his cheeks the way his mouth curls around words with no finesse the strength in his hands and the furrow between his brow when he catches me looking
I’m in awe of his smile shy- like young flowers in bloom for the first time I love his caramelized eyes a singularity of tooth-aching sugar the first drop of the roller coaster when his hand touches mine
I suppose I’m in love with him why else would I be jealous of the sun-beams on his skin and the cool sheets on his bed a closeness I wish I knew
the heart is located just below the sternum and i would like you to exist in the space between them curl into me and fall asleep to the pounding of my heart that i feel whenever you look at me. i think i could make you like me better if i could make a soft bed for you inside of myself but there’s only hardness and bone. would you still love me after seeing that there’s no depth to me at all? no flowers under my nailbeds? there’s nothing poetic about the desecration inside me. does that turn you off? does it scare you? it scares me. it does.
Darling boy. I think you’re more of a dream than I’d like to admit. You’ve existed in my mind for so long. You go by many names: soulmate. The One. Love of my life. Angel. True love. Mister right. Beloved. Red. Why would I call you anything but your name when you go by so many? I can call you my sweetheart and it doesn’t hold what I’d like it to. My Red. Color boy. Have you ever considered that the crime scene of my heart is now covered in your fingerprints? Does it bother you to have your name so close to a ******? I’d like to think your hands will be the softest thing to ever touch me. I’d like to think your lips are even softer. I want to believe that you’ll always love me like this, the way that I’ll always love you like a whirlpool. I am just spinning in my feelings for you. They can be overwhelming, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. It’s almost like the universe created me to love you. I was created to be yours and you were created to be great. You’ve succeeded. And I hope I’m succeeding, too. I love you, soulmate.
i want to exist in a place where the softness i feel for you isn't something that terrifies me. or a place where the fear of that softness don't exist at all. i mean that in the best way possible-- a place where the light in your eyes isn't quite so blinding. because it's love but it's not earth-shattering and it's love but i keep falling sleep and dreaming about you leaving or i wake up and think about you loving me. it's love but it's terrifying. maybe it wouldn't be if we existed in a place where i don't get my heart broken every time. but people make the same choices over and over and the only thing i can do is hope it turns out alright this time around. you make my heart a place of sunlight and i can't help but think that was your intention this whole time. angels always come to earth with a purpose. and i always do this, i say things i mean and i have to explain them. and don't we give out our hearts over and over every time someone asks us to? and you didn't even have to ask me. like i said, every time. i give and give and it's always too much and i don't mind being told i'm overwhelming. so it's 3am and i'm thinking of you again and i'm me but i'm not me and the world feels so small when i consider all the other planets out there. and i wonder if the moon understands how hard it is to feel something that's love but not love and never be able to describe it properly and i wonder if she ever feels like a handful, too. i don't think i'm qualified enough to say i love you and even if i was i don't know if i would but the sun rises every day and it reminds me that i'm not supposed to be able to put these feelings into words. and then it's 6am and i'm still thinking of you and i'm starting to realize i always will be and yeah, i'm ****** but so are you, sweetheart. i can curse my exes time after time but i can't pretend like they didn't leave me for a reason but i can tell you i still haven't quite figured out why but maybe you can explain it to me. i won't be surprised if it's something you can figure out before i do. it's a sad night and there's always going to be a boy that can't be good and he stays that way his whole life. boy can't keep his mouth shut, boy can't help but start to love you, can't help but panic at the thought. and that's all there is to it. the soft place only exists in the universe where i can pretend the way i feel about you isn't a gut-wrenching panic attack waiting to happen because the fear really won't ever go away. but maybe you can prove the fear wrong instead of me trying to convince myself it won't cause an earthquake.
I will wash myself in light. I will scrape away my hands on sunlight and leave myself drenched in stardust, the kind of light you could see yourself loving and I'll share it with you if you want me to. I'll let you scrape off the flecks of moon or I'll run my hands all over you and leave them in your hair. I think you'd like that, wouldn't you? you'd like for me to leave little pieces of myself on you and it's understandable. it's not so bad to share your light when it's someone you can see yourself being with in the dark. we could exist in the sunlight and the complete darkness and I'd be fine with either or both if it was with you. don't mind me, fist-in-mouth boy, a boy with nothing but love for you. you don't have to listen to me when I say you're my boy but I hope you know I say it because I want to wrap myself in the crook of your elbow and live there for a while. I want you to taste me on your tongue like copper shavings or summer berries and I will look at you like the sunrise or falling snow because I can only compare you to beautiful scenery. you can be the ocean and I'll be the ocean floor. as long as you're surrounding me no one else has to know how far I stretch myself to return the favor. I mean that in the best way possible. I have to try harder than other people to let you know how amazing you are and I'll admit, sometimes I worry other people could tell you that in a voice softer than mine ever will be or show you with a heart not covered in burn marks. and I'll only ever always be secondhand smoke hoping to be fresh air in your lungs. sorry about that. what a clingy line. there goes the fist again; taking itself out and letting me embarrass myself. I know you won't mind. so I guess I should stop being so afraid to tell you I love you; stop skipping around the subject and painting you scenes where you're the sun and I'm worshiping you but I'm not as good with words as you think I am. I can stretch those three words into a hundred others but I can't say them plain and simple. and you know what I mean, don't you? it's a scary feeling and I can't make it go away but I hope you'll be patient because eventually I'll say them without an abbreviation or a joke or some other distraction from the main point. it's cliche to say but I've always been afraid of heights and ferris wheels were my favorite ride, so it makes sense that I could fall and fall and still be afraid. fist-in-mouth could ruin everything but somehow I don't think it will.