Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.
You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.
You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.
You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.
Some things are better left unsaid. (via fawun)
at noon i stumbled outside to pick an orange from the tree
anything that will plant a seed in my stomach
that can grow outwards
until my nerves
become as grounded
as the roots.
maybe i was asking too much
imagining a future, or reality
where you thought of me
as much as i think of you
because at this point
i would die for the reassurance
that you’re thinking of me at all.
thirty eight days
today i heard your voice for the first time
in thirty eight days
and every part of me wanted to be angry
but when you picked up the phone
you sounded so tired
like someone who hadn’t slept
in those nine hundred hours
and my only instinct was to respond
like someone who still loved you
even if it didn’t feel natural
these quiet seconds of still nothingness
i often remember you as a voice
something that would repeat the
dirty phrases you learned from me
as if being with me wasn’t something you did
as much as it was something
you were taught to do
but now, as i lie on my back
i’d like to dedicate these quiet seconds
of still nothingness
to how much courage it must have taken
to fit myself inside of you
and ask if i ever thought about
getting back together
because i was never that brave
i can’t describe how wonderful you are
but the most selfish parts of me still wish that you weren’t
and wish that you were as flawed as everyone else on this planet
and that your flaws would transcend far enough to reach me
in ways that would help me miss you a little less
because sometimes i miss hearing you admit that you want to taste me
and sometimes i still think about being tasted
and you holding me in your mouth
and gripping these sheets.
i don’t understand literally anything so this is the beginning of a great friendship
i’m okay with you finding me annoying but i’m really weirded out with you sending me this message multiple times this week. like okay dude i saw the first one but what the heck do you want me to say haha like how urgent is it that i address this dilemma of yours. i guess i’m sorry? it must suck to like someones music but not vibe with who they are as a person.
idk, you better sort this out soon tho because life gets a lot harder than this
it’s cold, and lately i’ve been feeling tired of everyone i know. and i’m positive that it’s obvious that every time i’m out i want to go home, and every time i’m home i feel so alone. i can’t expect to sit and wait around to die for the rest of my life.
"…i want to always think about the time that we talked about flowers. you don’t know what your favorite flower is because all your other boyfriends said they were glad you were too punk to want stupid gifts, and you’d bite your tongue to silence the little girl in you that wanted to be treated like a princess. sometimes it’s the things that feel wrong that make us better. my therapist calls that a paradox."