I still see you like that, you know? Two nervous kids swinging slowly side by side at 4am. Just the police sirens slowly fading in the distance, the sound of the sea gently humming into the boat sheds, and your voice in my ears. We were talking religion, politics, possession, and star signs, pretty heavy for a first date. Your eyes were full of questions about me, you spoke only truths about yourself and what you thought of the world. Your opinion was loud and confident, I loved that about you even back then, it went hand in hand with your laugh. It broke the silences, the way you’d throw your head back as if your smile was just waiting to greet the sky. That’s when I knew I loved you. Thats why I fell in love with you, when the heavy stuff was the small talk, when your honesty made me blush, burning red under streetlights, your lips colliding with mine. I still look at you now the same way as that night, you know? Like Im seeing you for the very first time. Our hands too shy to leave our pockets, but you felt safe, you always felt safe, in a good way, like home, or bed. And now our hands find each others as easy as clasps on a locket, or two pinkys making promises at 12am, over little things, like you liking my new haircut. Sometimes I stray into sadness and start to slowly unravel, melting into little pools of angst in our sheets, crying over stupid things like washing, and rent, and ex lovers, fighting with fistfuls of anger and insecurity. But I’ll always come back to you. I love coming home to you.

Tags: prose writing

She is there and I am here, with all my insecurities laid out, like luggage spread on bedroom floors. I am saying please don’t give up on me, I’ll come back to you. She is saying she’s never loved anyone more.

All I feel is hollow.

Her eyes bring me back. They are ocean floors and I am sinking everyday.

Tags: poetry writing

These days its a struggle to get out of bed. To put one foot in front. Anchors knotted to ankles. Safety pinned to the darkness of this bed. Stuck between statue and running man. Between nothing and trying too hard to be everything. My brain never sleeps, instead it barks at the full moon, conjures up nightmares and alarm clocks. Hands run, like wet ink in the rain on old journals and used words. Please forgive me, sweetheart, these thoughts are not mine. Rather a mad mans tongue infiltrating my brain. I don’t know whats wrong, everything and nothing at the same time. Impossible to stop the shaking I feel inside, I’m still a 5 year old kid afraid of the dark hallway. Afraid of the way I think most days. Growing up I always thought I’d be the hero.

burningmuse:

innercondition:

image

Sometimes, I guess life just seems like a struggle. And I hate that, y’know, because life is this massive gift and yet some days it feels more like a curse. And the thing is, no matter how much I tell myself to enjoy every minute of this life of mine, there are always…

(via edgeandvoidlit)

.

Her skin is the smoothed out rocks I used to skim as a kid. I am the darkened roaring river, wide eyed to the ocean. She is just waiting for me to collide, crashing together with all of our currents and rips, all of the broken pieces, and shooting star wishes. Engulfing each other in a “I’ve been waiting for you this whole time,”embrace. The willow branches watch us with hopeful eyes, clapping in unison as the summer breeze falls in love with their leaves. Her smooth skin brushing even the most darkest parts of me. Guiding me home,  horizon at our feet, just for tonight we are giant and the world is small compared to our love.

Tags: prose poetry bebe

Love makes fools of us all. I am the biggest fool.

Tags: love foooooo

Anonymous said: What's your name?

Captain. Iwasgod tho

Anonymous said: What is your favourite flavour of soup?

Pumpkin soup hell yessssss

Anonymous said: I love that I can related to everything you write .-.

I love that you can too