i'm not even pretty but my voice reeks of *** and my fingertips leave stains on everyone i touch
they can't forget me
can't live without me

I love him  I do  just not in a true love sort of way  in a way where I understand I will love other people and he is my first and therefore precious but I’m terrified of one day not loving him because there is so much doubt when you’re 18 and leaving home for the big city with a heart that’s always been treated nicely  and there’s a sort of fear in the way boys tend to step on young girls and laugh over the harsh crunching sound underfoot  like a crisp leaf in the autumn  tender until the cold front  I love him and I’m terrified of never finding someone who will love me the  way  he  has  even despite the flaws and lacks and losses  where can I find a boy so genuine and innocent  who’s never tasted the skin of another girl under his tongue and looks into my eyes with the passion and lust and  overwhelming beauty in which he fastens his cloudy sky coloured irises onto my two oceans
where can I find a heart so willing to wait  with patience  for his to beat in sync with mine

the words rarely break your lips, unlike those times when we spent weeks composing letters, weaving our souls into words for the other to pore their eyes over, pens bleeding into paper which we'd press to our chests or even to our faces in the hopes of a whiff of a scent of something familiar, when we were oceans apart,
but now we're only separated by minimal layers of clothing and it's when we're lying heart to heart, that dreamy look in your eyes while you stare into mine, the dark freckles on your pale skin clusters of constellations i can't wait to name, and that gorgeous grin of yours so large i feel embarrassed, 'what?' i always laugh and blush and say, and you pull me closer, arms enclosing me so tight i can't breathe, as if i'll leave - i never will - and that's when i know,
that's how you say it:

it's not a pretty thing always living in the future, waiting on other moments to come as if now is not worthy enough so it's something precious when you're in a moment and you don't want it to end, there is that very special feeling where each second is an infinity sooner or later about to snap

i can see it, a small town on the west coast, not a far drive out of perth, and a tiny little house that’s plenty enough room for the two of us . a wide open verandah and the big windows always open , the salt smell of the ocean drifting on the breeze and all the floral scents of the garden - which is messy but well loved; tall sunflowers ***** between patches of strawberries, endless carrot stalks, iceberg lettuce in the winter, little bushes of tommy toe tomatoes and thyme all year round, an accidental pumpkin patch thriving from a few random seeds left in the compost. a bed like the one we first made love in, memories of that pretty white queen mattress, but it didn’t stay stainless for long -  modest jobs for the both of us, i’d happily spend my days waiting tables by the beach and making coffee for the locals , eclectic and friendly aussies - that spirit can’t be found overseas, that accent will always sound like home - and then to come home to that cosy little bungalow by the beach and cook new foods every night, mostly a disaster but always fun, a mix of all the vegetables from the garden , whatever is in season and we can eat it outside while the sun sets on the day and you compare my eyes to the water of the coast while yours are more like the sky on a cloudy day and i remember how you always said our kids would have ‘the ocean in their eyes’  and  our hunger left unfulfilled after dinner we’ll make a meal out of each other  let’s make love all night  every night  until one day nine months later we may find ourselves blessed with a third pair of eyes to observe the blissful life we’ve created for ourselves in this town  far away from everything we’ve known just comfortable and safe and happy with something physical now to hold us together for a year and 18 more and the rest of forever

there's something in these long rainy afternoons, laying naked beneath the sheets alone with wandering hands   in an empty house that echoes with my moans and i love the excitement of leaving the windows open so my neighbours can hear that i'm not entirely joyless without you
i'm so lonely i would **** myself on the porch just for a little bit of attention , like a glance off the street from a stranger could ever equal the look of intensity in your eyes as you ****** between my thighs
my fingers taste how i remembered yours each night, a taste of skin and sweat and *** , i miss the way you felt on my tongue how you made me feel powerful and good as every drop rolled wet down my throat

those sour japanese lollies you mailed to me tore my mouth up with ulcers, but still they could never treat me as roughly as you

how much is it okay to sacrifice to be with the one you love?