#larrystylinson
“maybe in another life, louis,” i finally said, staring off at the distant city lights and buildings, feeling the cold creep insidiously into my bones. his name easily rolled off my tongue like a reflex — a muscle memory so deep-seated and yet so strange and unfamiliar now.
silence filled the air and yet, at the same time, it was filled with other things — defeat, heartbreak, resignation, the sounds of vehicles speeding off. the pain gnawing in my gut. the regretful yearning. the need to just be stupid and reach out for his hand. the pain of knowing i couldn’t. the finality of the ending.
and yet, here we stood, too close and too far.
he nodded and stirred lightly, as if preparing to leave. my gaze shifted into his direction. his movements, still slow and graceful, and lit by the moon. it was almost too painful, almost too delicate, almost too poetic. i could still remember what falling in love with him was like. i could still remember him breaking my heart for the first time, until the time where there are no more pieces left to break. and i would’ve done it all again.
he finally spoke, bringing me back to reality. it was almost too soft, too weak, but i heard it.
“maybe in another life.”
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 10:24 PM UTC
they told me to get over you.
they gave me her
and forced me to stop longing for you,
but the truth is
i still love you, i forever will.
even if the world drowns us in hate
because i've finally learn thats its okay to be gay.
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 2:10 PM UTC
Even though our matching tattoos were permanent, his feelings for me were temporary.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 3:51 PM UTC
His eyes were green,
his were blue.
He was tall, upholding many inches,
more than a few.
They bonded quickly, grew closer.
Neither thought it'd be over.
Laughs were shared, and giggles were tossed,
tickles roaming the couch,
smiles never leaving the mouth.
They were open, happy as ever,
until Management wouldn't let them be together.
They grew apart, fingertips barely brushing,
making them feel as if they were nothing.
They barely share a glace,
because they never get the chance.
They can only stare with a dull glow,
while the other sings their solo.
One lies, one suffers.
Both sharing the same fear.
Maybe, all of us here,
can come together one day,
and realize that gay is okay.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC