Magic In My Boness

My patience is waining.

[biscuitwithaface]

My love is intense. Very intense, I’d say. It will hold your entire existence.

A firm, gentle strangulation with a suffocation of nothing and a pain that goes on forever of being loved till eternity.

Did ache ever feel sweet?

[biscuitwithaface]

When I read your poetry, I find myself crying, wishing those words were meant for me. I wish I were never real—only fictitious enough to be carefully wrapped in your chosen words, to become art within your thoughts. If imagination is the only place where I can be with you, then so be it. Let me exist there, even if only temporarily. Let me believe that you still love me in one or many of your musings. If that is how we are meant to be— you as the words, and me as your thought— then I want my entire existence to become a poetry I would never have to cry for.

[biscuitwithaface]

I carry the scent of your abandonment—never meant to be there forever, yet it lingers, aching to be called back.

[my-dailydreams]

[my-dailydreams]

[biscuitwithaface]

Your palms in mine, while I hold the sight of you gently in my eyes, reading you, memorizing every detail of your existence. No words. No noise. Just you and me - and the silence that understands us. I pull you closer and my soul falls to its knees without asking why. Can you feel the warmth trembling between us? Not the real fire… Or may be it is. But the kind that heals as it burns, lit by longing, by hope, by desire, by brave choices wanting your soul entwined with mine. Our lips haven't met, yet my smile has already surrendered. We haven't held each other for long, yet our souls feel inches away from colliding into one — even when we're miles apart.

Fuck the talking stage! Let's merge souls.

Let them meet where words fall short and love finally speaks in true passion.

[biscuitwithaface]

Developers don’t just react.

They react js.

[biscuitwithaface]

I am in a state of exploding into everything unseen—atoms, molecules, air—just so I can exist around you.

[biscuitwithaface]

She is the summer warmth my wintered skin yearned for—the comfort of loving her, endlessly, in every season.

[biscuitwithaface]

I love from the most deserted places of my heart, from the hinges of every turn it has ever taken. It is beautiful because it is true, but terrifying because it is bad—really bad. So bad that I would love you even when my hair turns white and my bones ache.

[umabokil]

I smother my words with a rock and sit on it, calling the rock a pillow and wonder why my words don’t have a voice of their own.

[umabokil]

Lean into me like you have something to say, then stay in my arms for the rest of your life.

[biscuitwithaface]

The urge to just burst out laughing into millions of molecules for absolutely no reason and then happily disappear, is so real.

[purr-in-ink]

[biscuitwithaface]

The ones who held your heart without ever holding you, not in your sight long enough to even be a memory, but just in those random eye glances only to be a muse — The one that would stay and linger in your eyes, so you could word them perfectly and call them poetry.

[umabokil]

Breathe me in like fire. Please. Let my smoke be your oxygen. Loosely translated, love me like I am, hell and heaven and all parts of me. Love my depths and my cracks, love my tears and all my gaps. Love me like you would if I were a perfect piece. Love me like you would in all the forms that you see. Love me like you would if I were not me. So, my point is, will you love me, please?

[biscuitwithaface]

✨❤️😭

[umabokil]

You’d become as familiar as the first whiff of smoky whiskey tingling my nostrils. A habit. A routine. A process. You’d become my ‘everyday’.