It disgusts me how people can act civilized with one person and like a barbarian towards the next.
I’ve been under some stress lately when I’m at my boyfriends house, not because of him, but because of his family and some of the interactions that go on within the household.
I’m in a weird position now. Sometimes I’m itching to talk to his parents and point out some things with how they treat him vs. his sister but, though it would be good for me to get it off my shoulders, it would be a disaster because of how inappropriate it would sound.
So I’m stuck. My guy and I don’t have any problems with one another, but our families can be so hard on us sometimes.
Eichkk.
Called to tap upon your door, knuckles rap softly and then
you.
A lightbulb turns on and I begin to take all of you in, all of your face - eyes, smile, lips, hair - along with how you stand and the clothes you’ve chosen to wear and amidst this hyperdrive of attraction I must try to reel back and take one thing in at a time. What comes from this is how quickly my eyes lock with yours and
click.
Like being kicked in the back of the knees I’m down in black space, delirious and drinking in the colors that adorn your eyes in the light from your gaze. Two seconds - undressed and in your arms - time flies when you stop breathing and drown in one another. Awakening. Planting my lips to your ear and with a purr kiss you there in my sleepy stupor, high on your scent and you skin warm on my glowing body.
What a hum we encompass when dying together.
My heart is about to fly out of my chest with longing.
It flutters as a caged bird would - trying to escape this cage of limbs and hollow sighs and rocket to your side.
Like rain you sleep - the pattern of your dreams as soothing of a rhythm as water on a pane, or running delicately down ones skin.
I find my heart beating like yours - this drowsiness pulling me under where I mingle freely with your aura, claiming finally what was surviving so far away. The taste of pleasure is pinned to my mouth as curves brush the walls and make Picasso shapes in the darkness.
Comforting I find this all to be, too
Only two more nights away from you.
unsubscribing from mostly everyone on facebook. now I only need cupcakes and punch to complete this party wooohoooo
Yes, being away from him made me furious. Furious I couldn’t hold his hand or kiss him; furious I couldn’t make him laugh or sing him to sleep. I wanted to throw miscellaneous objects at my bedroom walls from the irritation. I wanted to cry and be angry, to take out my pent up frustrations on something, anything, to get it out of me.
And all I had were my fucking pen and paper to try to explain how I felt. To try to convey such a feeling within my simple writing would be futile. There was never truly an escape for me, not in my guitar or my books or my tv shows at 2AM when I couldn’t sleep because the bed was too empty and his scent was too present and his shadow of a memory too clear.
Yes, being away from him made me furious. Furious because with my wishing for his happiness I was oftentimes condemning my own. Furious that I never minded, that his smile was the only form of happiness I really wanted.
All I could do was silently reprimand myself for being that way, still deep down knowing I was the luckiest girl in the world to be held in his gaze, his arms, his love. Because no one really knows what to do in love anyway. Because besides being furious and restless with myself and with him, it all went away the moment he returned home.
And all I had were butterflies.
Fluid and soft, filling the lungs, our warped shadows brush our still bodies with surreal reluctancy, a weighted human exhaustion claims our whispers and contends to flood our drowsy eyes with firefly visions.
Clockwork heartbeats carry on with familiarity, a lick of bubbling warmth in the bloodstream forces your sigh and I revel in its taste on my parched skin.
Electricity contained with your hand in mine is delicate and severe, a hypnosis made with gentle movements and a sigh from the moon.
You are a gentle surrender, my sweet resurfacing from the earth to space, a heliotropic movement from being alone to being home.
