I canât believe I loved you this much.
Monterey Bay Aquarium

ellievsbear

romaâ
occasionally subtle
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
đŞź

tannertan36
tumblr dot com
we're not kids anymore.
Claire Keane
ojovivo
Jules of Nature
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

Origami Around
hello vonnie
Misplaced Lens Cap

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@leftoverword
I canât believe I loved you this much.
- I donât love you anymore
iâm drunk,
youâre drunk.
and holy shit, youâre beautiful.
you tell me itâs just the alcohol talking,
but my glass is still full.
- I finally got the courage to delete all my photographs of you. I can feel myself going crazy; but itâs probably less crazy than staring blankly at the photos of your face and barely being able to recognize you.
8 days, it took me 8 days to fuck everything up.
iâm a mess. iâm a horrible mess. how did i expect you to be able to love and care for me when i couldnât return the favorite back. iâm such a mess. i canât even stay long enough to make you want me the way i want you. god iâm such a mess.
meeting the wrong people at the right time.
i crave you. i crave the touch of your fingers on my skin. i crave the taste of your lips, but i think more than the way you mark my neck, i crave your smiles as i place kisses on your nose to your lips. and god i hope you understand how beautiful you look when your eyes flutter open to stare at me, cause i swear thatâs how i know i canât give myself to anyone else even though iâm not yours and you will probably never be mines. and i know itâs so stupid and iâm probably so fucked, but i canât get the way you talk outta my head, your voice replays over and over and it doesnât help that youâre so god damn beautiful. i would be the first to admit how taken i am but you. but iâm afraid of falling, and youâ canât catch me. so please, please just give me a bit more time. give me a few more days to forget you. Â
give me five more minutes, no, even five more seconds will be okay.
can you stay a bit longer? stay a bit longer, just until i donât feel stupid for wanting to give you all the best parts of me when you wonât even let me see a part of you. give me five more seconds to take in your beautiful face, cause i constantly fear that this will be the last time i will be able to see you face to face. please just let me lay next to you. because i think i need more than the time it takes to pull up your pants and kiss me goodbye. because my heart needs more time to stop wanting and needing you. just stay a bit longer with me.
tell me when to stop falling for you.
the butterflies in your stomach wonât stop fluttering when he smiles at you. when he says he misses you, youâll want to believe him but your guts will scream for you to run as fast as you can. in fact, when he holds your hand, youâll crave the warmth of his fingers, but heâll crave your cold body. and when he places his soft lips on yours and kisses you, you fear that youâre going to lose him but the funny thing is, heâs not even yours. however, you stay mute. because, oh god, heâs so beautiful; and he speaks with passion in his eyes, and youâve lost all the passion in your life. so when you tell him that youâre his, you canât help but wish he would say he was yours too.Â
May be I was broken from the very beginning
You once asked me about love. And I remember replying that love was simply a concept invented by humans. I recall you tilt your head and asked me who broke me. I jokenly told you I would go in and get myself fixed. You laughed along and as you placed kisses on my skin, you made me promise to go in as soon as possible and get fixed. And I agreed, because how hard was it to fix something thatâs not broken?
Except; when you told me you loved me, I searched for the right words to say back, only to realize I was too broken to fix.
i want it all.
I want to fall asleep counting the endless freckles on your skin; the sound of your heartbeat reminding me how lucky I am to be alived at the same time as you. And Iâm pretty sure I will never lose the urge to grab your beautiful face and just plant kisses all over you, kissing you until you lose all those silly fears that we will never work. I pray that I get to wake up every morning and find my smiling reflection in your eyes. And on my darknest days, I will be reminded that you are the ray of light in my life as I lay numb in your warm arms. But more than anything, I hope you allow me to hold your hand and follow you on which ever road you decide to take.
because we're in the same bed but i can't reach you.
please don't ask me to trust you. not when more than half of the men in my life hurt the women who love them the most. not when i held my mother as she cried herself to sleep when my father didn't home home and she knew he was in another woman's bed. not when my uncle ran his fingers down another woman's body as my aunt slept in the room next door. so please, please, please do not ask me to trust you as you lay in another woman's arms.
The weeds inside me were actually flowers.
There are flowers growing inside of me.
For the longest time, I was sure that every thing growing inside of me had died from the darkness that has taken over me.
I found myself trying to slice open a crack of light and watering the dying flowers inside me with spilled blood and ink.Â
But now I know. There are flowers growing inside of me.
heaven sent me an angel.
he doesnât know how beautiful he is. he blushes when i tell him i love his smile, jokes when i tell him how smart he is. he doesnât believe me when i say i love him. he still cringes when i run my fingers against his skin, and turns red when our lips touch. he doesnât always like himself, and i kinda sucks. he gets upset when the riddles he speaks sound silly, and cries to himself more than he would like.
he doesnât understand what blessing he is. at least not yet⌠but i do. i do.
It's either spilled ink or blood.
â  Six Word Story #121
i'm not done yet.
before i am a daughter, a sister, a lover, a wife; i am a human being.
i demand to be heard. crave to be loved, and will be respected.
i am a hurricane, the beautiful destruction ripping through your life.
i've been stepped on, beaten and left for dead. yet i rise to the top.
i refuse to burn for your entertainment. i won't obey the rules anymore. i'm breakint out of the mold you set.
my essence will be infinite;
that's how i knew where my heart was.
my therapist asked me if i had time to myself how i would spend it. and the funny thing is, all i could think about was lying in bed with you, counting the feckles on your cheeks and tracing the scars running down your hand.
i only write when my life is a mess.
you often asked me why i stopped writing, i smiled telling you there was too much beauty in the world to stop and spill ink. later you would ask me why i started to write again. and i'll smile again, telling you there was too much beauty in this world to keep it hidden. but now i realize i write beacuse i'm trying to find the beauty inside me i lost along the way.