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i hate that we've been together so long without being able to call you my boyfriend
i hate how you never smile in photos, and the way you wear blue shirts that bring out the colour of your eyes
i hate the fact you think i'm beautiful when you've never really seen me
i hate how you call me at 3am and insist you're not drunk, and pretend it was an accident when you call me sober
i hate that you don't ask how my day was or what my favourite season is or if i like your hair like that
i hate when we don't talk for weeks and suddenly you miss me
i hate how you forget the name of my favourite song but remember the day we met
i hate that you promised your grandma you wouldn't smoke anymore but brag about your drugs to me
i hate how much i hate you, but that i have to, because the dumb truth is i love you, and
i hate how after all this time you still don't love me
monday 25th may '15 - my first poem in months, i guess you inspired me. i studied this film in school and here's my list for you. if you ever read this would you change?
when he speaks to me all i wish is that the words were coming from your mouth.
monday 22nd june '15 ~ everything he says is right; he's just the wrong person
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
friday 22nd july '16
i can't stop thinking about you and how warm your back was from the sun when i put my hands on your shoulder blades and i walked into my kitchen earlier and i smelt you which was strange because you've never been in my house and also because i can't believe how close my lips came to your neck today and i can't stop thinking about you.
monday 22nd december '14 ~  'the first date man, i didn't kiss her and i should have'
fling your favourite book off a tall building. then go find it.
friday 11th june '14 ~ i haven't done a lot of writing the last two/three days ~ sad, but true
each time you kiss me in unknown and untouched places, like the backs of my knees, the curve in my spine, the flesh behind my ear, the insides of my ankles; each time you run your fingernails down the expanse of my stomach, across my arms and the curves of my thighs; each time your tongue marks dates and times and places and memories onto my fingertips, and cheekbones, and *******; each time you drag a pen over my skin, drawing hearts and flowers and guitars, tattooing phrases and numbers counting down the days and hours to this and that; each time, you add a poem to my body.
saturday 19th july '14 ~ thirteen minutes past midnight and still awake ~ each night it's a little later ~ listening to 'jump then fall' by taylor swift
you are beautiful
okay, deal
i just love talking to you
at least i was joking
you’re the most amazing person i’ve ever met
i ******* love you, okay
the film is great
you could be a model
ti amo
i don’t know, it’s seven a.m. and i’m tired
you’re perfect for me, too
i’m not ******* lying!
of course i will
i will wait for you because i love you
sorry for everything
meant to post this thursday 20th november '14 ~ i'm crying about you again ******* ~ you're back again and we've already settled into our old bad habits
daisies in particular
really colourful nice-smelling flower shops
hot jam doughnuts
licking cinnamon off of your lips and skin and fingertips
going on adventures
the feeling when you are so afraid but honestly don't give a ****
driving in the early morning
driving at night
watching you drive
kissing you at the stoplights
kissing you
sunday 6th july '14 ~ tbh
everything is falling apart and i am no longer a part of anything.
friday 4th july '14 ~ listening to mkto's album which just arrived in the mail today x
i just want a disease to sweep through the world and for all the adults to die and then turn into zombies and then the kids will **** all the zombies and live in peace and harmony and then realise there is no such thing and turn against each other until they all die and then little flowers will grow through the cracks in the abandoned pavement and everything will be as it should.
actually wrote this a few days ago, but can't remember when ~ tuesday 17th june '14
in your backyard, a summer evening, daylight dropping low behind clouds and trees on the horizon, and light from the kitchen window illuminating a slanted square of freshly cut lawn. you and i, we drew as far back from your house with your parents and the rest of the world as we could, hidden in the far corners where we couldn’t be seen, leaning against the fence and smoking cigarettes amongst your mum’s rosebushes. this is where we liked it. this is where we filled fancy glasses and sipped stolen champagne - or you sipped and i quietly poured most of it into the garden, wondering how much wine it would take before it started killing the plants - and contemplated what we’d do with the rest of our days.
i had some ideas, and they all included you.
monday 7th july '14 ~ using the words 'backyard glass plants cigarette killing'
your birthday out in the meadow up on the cliff - so we’ll be closer to the stars, you said - the picnic rug spread out and covered with two glasses from your parents’ cabinet, a cheap bottle of champagne neither of us ended up liking too much, a pack of cigarettes buddy gave you as a present, a takeaway box of krispy kremes ordered in from the city, and then you and me.

before the first hour was even up you had somehow found a way to close that final gap between us, you manoeuvred yourself on top of me with an agility that could only be matched when you’re playing basketball. and then you were kissing me, everywhere, anywhere.
“logan,” i said, with those quick snatches of breath when your lips weren’t on mine and instead exploring other interesting places - the hollow of my throat, my cheekbones, the creases of the corners of my eyes.
“mmm,” you murmured, maybe with a question mark on the end but i wasn’t sure.
“you’re meant to be watching the stars,” i gasped, as you found a spot on my neck.
“i am watching the stars.”
i could see them above your head, crazy beautiful, you and the stars together, a sight matchless.
“no, you’re not.”
and by then you had moved back to my lips, and i tasted your words as you spoke into my mouth, fizzy like champagne and, of course, the inevitable sweetness of cinnamon. “yes, i am, mary” - your fingers in my hair, do you remember any ******* part of this? - “in the dark like this i can see the stars reflected in your eyes.”
saturday 2nd august '14 ~ happy birthday my love
in your backyard, a summer evening, daylight dropping low behind clouds and trees on the horizon, and light from the kitchen window illuminating a slanted square of freshly cut lawn. you and i, we drew as far back from your house with your parents and the rest of the world as we could, hidden in the far corners where we couldn’t be seen, leaning against the fence and smoking cigarettes amongst your mum’s rosebushes. this is where we liked it. this is where we filled fancy glasses and sipped stolen champagne - or you sipped and i quietly poured most of it into the garden, wondering how much wine it would take before it started killing the plants - and contemplated what we’d do with the rest of our days.
i had some ideas, and they all included you.
wednesday 24th september '14 ~ i'm laughing at how bad the title of this is, i am so awful at titles like seriously
your collar bones make me want to shove you onto a bed and sit on top of you and lay kisses on every inch of your body, and your skin, pale and glowing and unlike every other italian boy i've ever seen, you're different to them
and it's not because you think i am deserving of love and not just ***, and you think i'm beautiful and not just ****
it's the way you look into my eyes and wait for my smile because you think it's the most perfect thing in the world, and how you can't help but touch me every time i bite my lip because i'm so '****** ****' and you want my body but before that you made sure you wanted my heart
friday 3rd july '15 ~  i don't know how i was ever lucky enough to meet someone like you
i want you to tell me i’m beautiful, every day until i believe it. the truth is i was never beautiful, not until you said it, until you lied about it. i felt something when you said those words, something i’ve never been before. i’m different after you and i don’t know how to go back to being who i was.
monday 10th november '14 ~ out of the two of us you are the ******* beautiful one
i love the moments after getting out of the shower. running fingers over clean, smooth skin, feeling the curve from my hipbone to the smooth plane of my thigh, the swoops and dips from my clavicle to my shoulder to my arm, slipping on a loose shirt and feeling the material settle over my *******, pulling on a pair of your boxers or some nice underwear and walking out into your room, the inhale of breath as you hold me and your fingertips realise i am wearing no bra, and the moments following when you touch me and - forget it being ****** - it just feels so beautiful and so human, and i smile as your fingernails tickle me and you wet my dry lips with your tongue.
saturday 5th july '14 ~ oh by the way everything i write is fictional
and i’ll tell you a thing you probably do not know about sad girls with grey souls and broken hearts: once you tell them you love them at three a.m. while they are smoking cigarette after cigarette, your words get stuck in their lungs like the smoke they inhale and they invade their blood like a poison, and just like that, you become part of them, part of their infinite sadness forever or until the last drop of the very same blood you invaded with your sweet sweet words flows out of their lifeless body.
sunday 17th august '14 ~ you are a bonfire i can't get close enough to without being burnt
you were wearing a suit. it is a known fact that guys look hot in suits, and you were no exception. the way you shrugged on your blazer and slouched with your hands in the pockets of your pants, your dress shoes tapping a rhythm - real or made-up, it doesn’t matter - because the truth of it was you looked so good in your clothes that i wanted to take them off.
sunday 6th july '14 ~ today's been such a lazy day
i remember lying down with you on top of me and you pressed your palm in the space between my *******, pushing your weight on my breast bone, and i breathed deep and told you ‘don’t do that’ because you were too close to my heart.
sunday 21st december '14 ~ four boys have asked me out since you and i dreamed about another boy last night yet i am still struggling to come to terms with you
good morning kisses
goodnight kisses
kisses to taste the cinnamon on your lips
happy kisses
middle of the night kisses
gentle kisses
kisses because i like you
sleepy kisses
movie theatre kisses
oh god we're in an elevator by ourselves kisses
the stolen kind of kisses
kisses because you're too cute
wake up and see you and think you're the best person ever kisses
kisses just because
monday 30th june '14
i fall asleep in the a.m. hours with my necklace holding my veins together, tight enough to remind me of your fingers interlocking in the very same place.
sunday 23rd november '14 ~ i'm trying not to get too attached
i see the rain dancing across the windowpane as we sit in a small cottage kitchen. a game of scrabble sits before us and tea was never our strong suit so even though we are twenty-eight and still growing up now, we fiddle with our mugs of hot chocolate to keep our hands from shaking.
the blanket around my shoulders reminds me of when we were just kids, seventeen and stupid, curled in your bed. i kept it after all this time in the hopes that i will be able to get your scent back. when i saw you and we hugged and i invited you here, my whole body shivered with desire because the tantalising taste of cinnamon was still there on your skin. i wanted to kiss you like mad on that chilling, teeth-chattering cold street, but as i tried to warm your fingers in mine i told you i had a boyfriend.
this is where we sit, reminiscing in his kitchen while he is out working, and i wonder if i’ll make you leave before he comes home, or if we’ll both leave and be halfway across the country before he realises i have packed up everything i own and my car is no longer in the driveway.
when i close my eyes and think of england i think of that chance i never took.
wednesday 23rd july '14 ~ listening to 'haunted' and 'innocent' by taylor swift ~ written using the title as a prompt ~ skipping school today ~ happy birthday to my most fabulous friend
the day in the park when you told me you loved me i noticed things that i never noticed before. your hair looked darker than usual and i ran my fingers through it almost absent-mindedly, a quick action that happened before i could process it. my fingertips came back wet.
saturday morning and clearly straight from the shower you smelt of deodorant, that lovely boy smell, of something fresh and clean but with the hint of sweat already from the walk over here which made me wonder why you ever even bothered with showers, when i liked the ***** sweatiness of your skin more than anything.
spring was sprung, flowers everywhere, the council gardeners pruning and weeding every afternoon when i wandered this way after school, but blissfully absent this morning, you and i lone lovers on a lark.
i noticed the dandelions were swaying, how picturesque, us in that strange place between friends and more, and the grass wet and dewy beneath our feet, rose bushes lining the path. but we strayed from that path, we did. you stole my hand and we started running, you raucous and wild, a lion inside a boy, and me, following and cautious but laughing.
there was this lovely weeping willow, the branches dangling gorgeous leaves, sweeping the ground, a curtain of green which you parted and brushed aside like the way you sometimes brush my hair from my face. under that weeping willow things happened.
“i can’t deny it,” you said. you said, as you touched my hair and my face and no other part of me, so intimate and courageous with my heart beating faster than any other saturday morning. “i can’t deny the fact that i love you,” and you were pushing me back as you stepped forward, little nudges in the hip and the shoulder and then maybe just hard enough to leave a bruise you pushed me against the trunk of the tree. as steady as i was weak.
i checked later, at home, safe in my bedroom with the curtains closed, in the almost dark i pulled off my shirt and checked, and yes you did, you did leave a bruise, but it was not as painful nor as potent as when you finally finally finally kissed me, your lips air as i was drowning, against that weeping willow with your hands finally finally finally on my waist and stomach and *******, and the fire you started in my heart as stupid as it sounds that has not and will not burn out, the pain of having to leave you at my doorstep and waiting until the next time you could relinquish my need, and now after we’re broken up the pain of not knowing if i’ll ever feel those lips again.
the bruises on my skin do not even begin to rival the internal bruising of that first kiss.
friday 15th august '14 ~ wrote this yesterday in english ~ i haven't really had time to edit ~ sorry, in advance
how much is it okay to sacrifice to be with the one you love?
wednesday 18th may '16 ~ so much has happened to me today and i'm thinking about the future and i don't know what will make me happier: the life i've always dreamt of, or a life with him
i emptied myself of tears, ran my veins dry of blood, and etched mindless scribbles into my head in an ink so dark that your face disappeared. i reached out to touch you in the black but you were never in reach, separated by borders both invisible and tangible. wanting your lips on mine, i murmured, stay with me, and wondered why you wouldn't.
only after did i notice the horror on your face; the bruises in the shapes of my palms on your chest, the shadow of my fingers lacing a cage over your heart; the words i'd carved into my own skin, an endless taunt begging you to go away, but it wasn't you who i wanted to leave, it was the monster inside of me.
saturday 4th october '14 ~ she said i was the devil reincarnated but you always thought i was an angel
drunk text me. text me when the music is loud and there are girls dancing around you and you’re not quite coherent and you’re not quite yourself. drunk text me that you love me or that you miss me or that i’m on your mind. let the alcohol tell me all the things you won’t say sober.
thursday 31st july '14 ~ oh the lovely troye sivan 'happy little pill'
the problem is i ******* hate you. i ******* hate you so much because i ******* love you so much, and i don’t want to. you’re just some stupid boy with a gorgeous face and a lovely voice who knows how to make me smile. and i wish that was enough. but it’s not. it never has been.
wednesday 12th november '14 ~ this is not enough
you don't understand.
the thought of your eyes on me is what keeps me up at night.
i want you to ask me on a date to mcdonald's.
it's okay, i know you don't really love me.
i'm terrified you'll leave when you realise how awful i am.
everything i've told you has been truth.
can i kiss you in the back row of the cinema?
nine months is a long time.
you only love me because you have to.
even though i ask, i don't want to hear you talk about her.
one day you'll see i'm not as perfect as you thought.
i know you will keep absolutely none of your promises.
i love you more than you can ever realise and that makes me so sad.
perhaps you are the reason i am still alive.
thursday 4th december '14 ~ most of these are for you, but not all
and then the moment between the final shot of the movie and the beginning of the credits, the moment where all is dark and quiet, and my heart stops for a second as it does in every movie, until the music, loud and bright, as the credits roll on screen and you are gently touching my shoulder as if to wake me from a sleep.
“mary?” you whisper.
“yes,” i whisper back. i am here. we are here. we made it.
around us people stumble from their seats, groping for belongings, trekking through the popcorn and various other debris on the floor. you hold my hand even tighter than before, as if afraid to lose me in the commotion.
“can we wait here a little longer?” you say suddenly into my ear. i am thinking, why do you want to wait? and i am thinking, i always wait to be the last to leave, too. and i am thinking, you and me equals meant to be. and i am thinking, do you wait for the same reasons i do?
but i murmur, “okay.”
we lapse into silence even though the cinema is still loud, and then you stand and we slowly make our way to the back, tiptoeing past the seats to the aisle and sighing up the stairs. we hang around looking at each other in the darkness with the faint green light from the exit sign drawing out the whites in our eyes, until the very last person has trailed out through the double doors. then you grab me, so fast, so hard, and push me against one of the doors, your body pressed all the way against mine, and i am hoping the cleaners do not try and walk in but then we kiss, of course, because why else would you hang around to the end of the movie credits? and i can’t breathe because you are too good for me, too experienced, but then you pull open the other door and we are out in the light, blinking, laughing, wondering how can it still be daylight, and also, how did we ever find each other?
saturday 5th july '14 ~ i wrote this last night with the prompt 'exit sign' ~ actually really proud of how it turned out
out in the lobby, standing around, breathing in that familiar smell of cinema popcorn, different to the kind you put in the microwave for two minutes and watch spin around in the heat. we were watching people coming and going, the nighttime inhabitants streaming in for the late-movie - even later than ours - and me just wanting to turn around, disappear with you and go back into that dark and quiet space of cinema four where your hands couldn’t keep off my skin and nothing else existed. it seemed better, then, better than walking out from our date-that-wasn’t-really-a-date and facing the cold, facing our inevitable goodbye where i didn’t know if you were going to kiss me or even if i wanted you to kiss me, facing my friends with all their probing questions, facing my parents when i get home, and then, of course, the long and lonely wait until tomorrow when you’ll pick me up in your car in the morning and i’ll struggle, not knowing if it’s okay to call you my boyfriend and if i myself am now a girlfriend.
monday 21st july '14 ~ a follow-up of sorts to 'exit sign' ~ also a stand-alone ~ tired at 11pm and wanting to go to sleep but needing to write
"do you wanna do something?"
"of course."
"like what?"
"let's start walking and see where our feet take us."
"sounds good."
she slipped on her boots and planted a kiss on my forehead as i tied her laces with a double knot. her hand found it's way to mine and we waited for the click as she closed her apartment door behind us. she wiggled the ****: locked. the keys jingled as she tucked them inside her shoes, creating music with every step.
"come on feet," she said, as we ran down the stairs. we both looked to our shoes. "take us somewhere special."
tuesday 8th july '14 ~ his point of view ~ today was ordinary and lazy and weird because i didn't feel like doing anything
i just want a boy who touches me distractedly, like you're sitting watching a movie and he just kind of drags his fingers over your skin while watching and he doesn’t have a motive he’s not trying to tickle you or be ****** with you he’s just touching your skin and feeling the shape of your bones under that skin like it’s physically comforting for him to know that you’re right there under his fingertips.
monday 23rd june '14 ~ i'm reading 'along for the ride' by sarah dessen
there will be days when it’s only eight o’ clock but you’ve had enough and you can’t eat, you can’t talk, you can’t concentrate enough to do homework or read or sing or watch a movie or even move. you’ll be sitting on your bedroom floor staring at the wall making lists in your head of how fat and ugly and stupid and worthless and pathetic you are, how you’ll never amount to anything. your mind will play back and forth between all the bad memories, the sad times, when you felt the lowest you could possibly feel. you’ll hate yourself so much you want to die. you’ll be there for hours.
there will be nights like this, and on one of them your dad will walk in and see you sad and bring his guitar and sit on your bed and serenade you for hours until you fall asleep on the ground. you will be bored and angry and want him to leave, want to cry, but you’ll wipe away the tears when you realise he loves you. he ******* loves you and even though he’s never told you that before, he does, you can see it in his actions. because if sitting with someone when they are sad isn’t love, then what is?
there will be a night with a storm so fierce you think to yourself that finally the earth is as loud and angry as you are. walk outside in that storm. let the rain wash over you and let your hair and clothes get soaking wet and look up at that sky, watch as the lightning scatters across the darkness, turning everything white and light as day. you’ll be so overwhelmed because there is more. so much more than all the badness. everything, the world, life, is so much bigger than you. there is a whole world, towns, cities, states and countries waiting for you. places you’ve never dreamed of, incomprehensible experiences and happiness. listen to the thunder screaming, and you’ll realise it is not angry, just as you are not angry. it is just noise. all that hate and bitterness, the darkness inside of you, it is not rage, it is just so loud. scream with the storm, i dare you. just like nature, you can’t hold it forever. a release of all that negative energy is one of the most beautiful things in the world. like that storm, you can be fierce and incredible too.
there will be days where you are so **** tired and have had enough of all the back-and-forth ******* from people that say they’re your friends. someone will hit you, someone will push you around, someone will call you a name, someone will joke with you but it won’t seem like a joke. everything will be so bad, and then something will happen, you’ll look at the colours of the sky, feel the wind on your skin, a stranger will smile at you, you’ll ace a test you didn’t study for, the person you like will send you a lovely message you, your favourite song will be on the radio, someone will make a daisy chain for you and say you look ‘pretty’ but you’ll feel beautiful. there are days like this. you have to wait for them. they will come. i promise you.
the thing you have to understand is this is only a moment in your life. a day, a week, a month, a year that *****. there is more to this. there is ******* more to your existence then the sadness and pain. you’ll open the window even if it’s two freaking degrees outside and the cold air will hit you in the face and you’ll look out into the dark night and feel something. something good for once. something that might be hope.
i know, because i’ve been there. i’ve been there, and i survived.
sunday 14th september '14  ~ something i wrote for a friend
i’m thinking unhealthy things. i’m starting to think that we’re forever.
a question? no, it's a lie ~ wednesday 2nd july '14
god, i forgot how much i loved you until i was with you again. until i felt your fingers drawing me closer to you, your breath on my lips, hot on my pale ghost skin, your voice whispering words in the language you made just for us to understand. there are galaxies hidden in the space behind your ribs, i can feel them with each inhale you exhale, taste them in the back of your throat. your thumb traces circles across my hand, like rings around saturn, and you know i revolve around you like that too. you are planet earth and i am the moon, you are beautiful and i will only ever shine for you.
sunday 23rd november '14 ~ i love you i love you i love you ~ 12.27am ~ 'there she goes' by the la's
you are so ******* attractive and it annoys the hell out of me.
friday 5th december '14 ~ self explanatory
i wrote about last night's dream on a torn page from my notebook in the middle of spanish class, then you called me for 3 hours and i read it aloud for you, it was hilarious the crude rushed way i'd written about taking you in my hands and kissing your body parts, putting them in my mouth, how can i make it sound pretty, a ******* is always a *******
and your friend accidentally saw the ***** things i'd said to you in italian in the history of your google translate and
you and i we laughed about that for hours
saturday 9th april '16  ~ i've never loved anyone as much as you
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
monday 30th may '16 ~ i can't believe i've found a boy who's not afraid of the future, someone who can read this and not run away forever (you want to do that with me)
stay on the phone until i fall asleep to the sound of your voice
message me at 2am saying you miss me and can't sleep
bundle me in your arms to keep me warm and when that isn't enough,
hold me in your sweater and coat too
buy me cigarettes even though you hate the fact that i smoke
let me fall asleep in your lap
call me when we're both busy to say 'this reminded me of you'
take me on a date to a 24/7 mcdonald's when the place is empty at 3am
don't let go even when my hands are sweaty
keep your ******* promises
monday 22nd december '14 ~ i want to show you this list so you know just what you're getting into
i loved when he held his hands over my ribs spreading his fingers and feeling the bone beneath the skin and the way he’d move his thumbs over my ******* and how he’d rest his chin on my shoulder so i could press my lips over his cheek and cheekbone and the side of his nose and his jawline and his ears and his hairline and the pink corner of his lips.
i loved the way he made me feel beautiful, like an actual human being with an actual body like this, and wow the way he made my ******* beautiful not just parts of my body but life-giving and gorgeous, and how my skin wasn’t just skin, it was me, it was humanity, and my hips were so curvy and they were those of a woman, just like every other woman that had ever walked this earth.
who knew fingers could feel like this? could make me feel like this?
humanity is so beautiful,
isn’t it?
sunday 15th june '14
my best friend is ******* boys she’s never met before because i abandoned her to find myself in a country where i know nothing about anything
sunday ~ i haven't posted in forever. i'm still writing though, god i have more to write about than ever before
'i hope she's as crazy about you as you are about her'
saturday 9th april '16 ~ trust me
i don’t want the stereotypical idea of love. i don’t need chocolates and flowers and love letters. okay? I mean, i just look at you and i think of you and i dream of you and i know that is all i need. you. it sounds stupid and crazy but i am crazy, and if this is love, then love is crazy too.
i feel so full sometimes. like, my heart… it keeps growing and growing until i feel so much that i could burst. i have so much inside me that i don’t know what to do with it all. it just consumes me sometimes, until i’m with you… and then you - you consume me.
monday 23rd june '14 ~ :)
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:
thursday 30th june '16 ~ 1.11am
the night he told me he loved me, he held me in his arms and said, "are you crying?" as he surrounded my shaky body, and i told him, "no, i just really do ******* love you, too."
wednesday 15th october '14 ~ there's nothing to add to this except ~ it's 12.05am 15th october holy **** it's my sister's birthday i completely forgot
“a pretty flower for someone just as pretty,” you said, placing a sprig of green plant with little purple flowers into my cupped hand. i curled my fingers around it so it disappeared, just like that, gorgeous and then gone.
friday 11th july '14 ~ i keep thinking it is june. how can that be?
you rid yourself of my company years ago, but i still long to know how you are doing and if you have someone to keep the other half of the bed warm - but most of all, i wonder if my name ever crosses your mind, for yours never left mine.
sunday 27th july '14 ~ i have nothing to say other than i feel strangely empty
i pressed my hand against the cool glass of the bus window, the print of my palm wiping away the dewy moisture from the freezing winter morning. outside it was fog and frost and cars and traffic blurring their way through the city. inside it was quiet and stranger’s silence and like another dimension; the faint yellow lights down the aisle illuminating the passengers’ tired faces.
outside, the enormous buildings revealing the dark and tantalising history of the city, the gothic structures contrasting with the business men and women with their cardboard coffee cups and briefcases in hand.
inside, itchy navy blue tights and an unlabelled plastic water bottle to sustain me for the rest of the day.
the morning was wonderful in its twisted simplicity, a million people doing a million things, and me on the bus, watching it all.
friday 4th july '14 ~ i wrote this in english the other day ~ i don't really know if the second paragraph makes sense
"i'm so bored with it all," winston churchill said, before slipping into a coma and dying nine days later.
saturday 19th july '14 ~ stumbled across a list of last words yesterday
why am i taking song suggestions from a boy who doesn't play any instruments and thinks my favourite music sounds 'cheap'
tuesday 8th december '15 ~ you're no good at conversations, no wonder all i want to do is kiss you
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