#qualities - Hello Poetry

When I logged onto HP this morning the red number on the little house said 1.1k, that’s one-thousand and 100 posts - if I’m reading it right. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of personal injury - I’m missing it all. How can I ever catch up? School gets in the way of everything. Ok, let's wax poetic… about Peter, my boyfriend of 4 years (time flies). If I have him hooked, there's fragile evidence a girl can be powerful and helpless it's inconvenient He's normal-fine, but to me, dangerously cute - not like some fey, pretty boy - but too good to ignore - and he carries himself with disheveled, boss confidence We have no stilted conversations, we chatter away his opinions are flexible - and he lives without apology I think he secretly sees me as a long-form project He's brought order to my emotional chaos, and tempered my irreverent indifference He knows my successes don’t soothe me If he gives me gravitas, I give him sparkle and irony His senseless adoration of me makes me self-conscious and softens my insecurities - which multiply when untethered He's a well of sun-bleached optimism and kept promises, and he matters more to me than all of my other favorite things, like tech gadgets, oysters on the half-shell and icy, stirred martinis. His allure has always existed outside of that last, ephemeral corruptive. He’s the one I want, in the hushed stillness after the party. I hope that our love is more than crushed ice that melts away because when he consumes me, there'll be no crumbs left. . . A song for this: We Can't Stop (feat. Bea Miller) by Boyce Avenue We Can't Stop by Miley Cyrus Into You by Ariana Grande

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Apr 3

Apr 3, 2026 at 12:22 AM UTC

anaisvionet

one or the other

When I logged onto HP this morning the red number on the little house said 1.1k, that’s one-thousand and 100 posts - if I’m reading it right. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of personal injury - I’m missing it all. How can I ever catch up? School gets in the way of everything. Ok, let's wax poetic… about Peter, my boyfriend of 4 years (time flies). If I have him hooked, there's fragile evidence a girl can be powerful and helpless it's inconvenient He's normal-fine, but to me, dangerously cute - not like some fey, pretty boy - but too good to ignore - and he carries himself with disheveled, boss confidence We have no stilted conversations, we chatter away his opinions are flexible - and he lives without apology I think he secretly sees me as a long-form project He's brought order to my emotional chaos, and tempered my irreverent indifference He knows my successes don’t soothe me If he gives me gravitas, I give him sparkle and irony His senseless adoration of me makes me self-conscious and softens my insecurities - which multiply when untethered He's a well of sun-bleached optimism and kept promises, and he matters more to me than all of my other favorite things, like tech gadgets, oysters on the half-shell and icy, stirred martinis. His allure has always existed outside of that last, ephemeral corruptive. He’s the one I want, in the hushed stillness after the party. I hope that our love is more than crushed ice that melts away because when he consumes me, there'll be no crumbs left. . . A song for this: We Can't Stop (feat. Bea Miller) by Boyce Avenue We Can't Stop by Miley Cyrus Into You by Ariana Grande