All it took was one moment of nostalgia

                                                  fulfilled with you 

                          and  

 suddenly I’m back in the    labryinth                         dropped somewhere in the middle for you to find.

                           Why am I waiting for you to find me?

Why do I let your skin ignite me the way it does? Why do I want to be set on fire?

I thought that all I wanted was to be held — I wanted to be safe              

                                   with you.

But our bodies do something when they greet each other.   they     —    e      n

t      n      l

   a       g      e   

There isn’t any hesitation

                         and there aren’t any words,

       just actions.

Our particles dancing and melting into one another,

    absorbing every bit. We become 

                                               O           N         E.

I think that the curves of my body are   m

                                                            i

                                                               sh

                                                                   a

                                                            p

                                                                 ed

to fit yours.                  Its like I have to catch my breath.

   It’s almost like learning to breathe again.

                                             And I know that sounds cliche. But isn’t that what

                                    L          O          V           E

                                                          is?

My love for you is every cliche and every line of poetry I have to give you.

               My love for you is made of

                                   words.

and still, I find myself

                                                       speech

                                                            l e s s

      

You have given me so many reasons to love you

You have drenched me in the sweetest of your sins

You have left me with a childhood’s worth of scars 

And still I love you, and still I don’t believe it, I don’t

believe that I love you this much, there isn’t enough 

time in my life to love you, I regret not loving you sooner

yet I know that I wouldn’t want this madness any other way

I wouldn’t want you a day earlier or a day later, because you

came in at just the right moment, you came with relish, you came

and you held me in your arms like a child, and I felt like I had just

begun to breathe, like I had just discovered something new, like 

I had just been dropped in the abyss of your love, and for once

I didn’t fall. With you, I have always been able to stand on my own.

You give me that, selfless love, love that grows, love that nourishes.

This is why you are like a child to me, and I am yours, because we take

care of one another, we cradle one another, comfort one another, we 

expose ourselves to one another shamelessly, full of joy, you give me that.

You give me the comfort of knowing that I am loved, exactly the way I am.

You look at me, as if you can’t believe a human like me could exist for you.

I can’t believe a human like you could exist for someone like me, I love every

inch of you, even the ones you keep hidden in darkness, I know every inch

of you, I’ve memorized it with my eyes shut, you are all I know, all I want to

know. I am just a girl tripping over love, with a too big smile on her face.

I can’t help but think of the way we all feel about a kiss
Some of us fear it, step into it with our arms ahead of our bodies, see nothing but a dirty tongue, dirty in every sense, there are lies on our tongues, there are secrets darker than eyes tightly shut, there are leftovers from the past on our tongues.
Our mouths are everything we don’t have the courage to be, our mouths are selfish, keep words to themselves, even the beautiful ones.
(Maybe a mouth is common sense)
Some of us feel nothing but the kiss, feel the way a mouth molds into another, do nothing but devour a person as much as we can, go past the secrets of the tongue and into the depths of the skin.
We kiss you until we feel your shivers, move from the bone of the brow to the nape of the neck, to the curve of a hip, to the inner thigh, into the deepest parts of you.
They taste the dirt on your skin, drink the sweat off your limbs, lick the wounds until they are raw with light

(Source: littlelibs)

I am reconstructing four padded walls around the deepest parts of my mind, trying to keep my sanity, but boy you make me insane. I’ve always said you were the sanest insanity but now I’m not so sure. See, maybe the scars you’ve left are still too visible, maybe they’re still big to look at, they have been for a while. I wanted to be the kind of woman that could overcome these things. I wanted to be the kind of woman that could forgive, the kind of woman who could let go of the bitterness. It was never my intention to let a man take this from me, to let the honey rot down my throat and become sour. I’m afraid I’ve already become that. I’ve already become a cynical bitter woman, a martyr of her own love. There are days when I seep into your skin, digging my nails into the soil beneath your bones, creeping through you, lighting up the darkest corners of your being, as I melt into the darkest corners of myself, and that, is bliss. This is what I live off of, the love I drown you in, I live off my own love, hoping it will be reciprocated, but it hardly ever is. I have found deeper meaning behind the looks you give me, and the moments you kiss me with no reason, I’ve made these gestures into faith, I’ve turned them into your love for me. And still it is not enough. I am not the kind of woman you look at with love, I am not the kind of woman you kiss into love. No no no. I am more than this. I am the very essence of love, I am the moment between an inhale and an exhale. I am the kind of love that hurts, I am masochistic love, I am selfless love, I am selflessly selfish love, I am the kind of woman that you love until you are gasping for breath. I am the kind of woman who needs love like water, and honey, you’ve wrung me out dry.

- I buy a pack of cigarettes. Out of spite and out of need. My silent act of rebellion towards you, my silent cry.

- I clean my room and change my sheets. Hide all the parts of you hidden in between corners. The room gets a little bigger.

- I stop reading. Too many words remind me of you. I avoid silence.

- I try writing. I try to keep my screams silent. A slur of volatile feelings stain the page. I feel relief. I feel anger. I feel alone. I keep my back straight.

- I call the boys. Beckon them from the shadows, look for your hands in theirs. I leave your side of the bed untouched.

- I hide. Nostalgia consumes me. I wait. I brace myself for the moment I see you again. I think of a thousand things to say to win.

-  I look at myself in the mirror more often. I look at myself until I see her again, until the woman in me creeps back up my throat. There are days when I find my smile.

- I listen to all the sad songs on my iPod. I console myself with this, with this mutual feeling from a stranger. I remind myself I’ve gotten through this before. I remind myself I was strong enough. I remind myself that there is nothing awe-inspiring about my heartbreak.

- I breathe. Slowly. In and out. I smoke my cigarettes. I clean my room. I hide the books. I find the words. I call the boys. I hide less, show my smile more often. I listen to the sad songs until I can’t. I disintegrate into grit. I keep my hands calloused and my heart locked. I stop looking for you everywhere I go. I hope.

(Source: littlelibs)

I am tired of throwing my body around like an old excuse.

I give you feelings and you give me words, words aren’t enough.

They will never be enough when it comes to you, I will always be hungry.

It will always be intolerable and I will always want more, I need feelings.

I need reassurance, I need a constant reminder, I need your love in my ear.

I need to not expect anything, I need to love you, without second guesses.

But I can’t.

I am afraid of this, afraid of the purity we’ve lost, the stains we’ve inked into one another.

I am afraid that I will starve, I am afraid that I will always want more, I am afraid that you are not enough.

I don’t know if I have any fight left in me, I don’t know if I can hold myself together with all these callouses.

Maybe I should just give you words, maybe I should stop trying to make you feel my love.

Maybe you don’t.

Maybe I don’t.

Maybe I’m not as strong as all the woman I claim to be.

I am ashamed of this. 

I think I’ve lost myself in this labryinth, I think you found your way out, I think I noticed too late.

(Source: littlelibs)

I read her poems and I see you in them

Hidden between lines, kept in darkness, for my sake

So it seems, it seems like everyone knows the real you but me

It seems as if everyone knows us, but me

I cry it off, wake up the next morning, loving you more than the night before

I whisper reassurance into your ear, reassure myself of this and try to not read

into her metaphors, into the way they make me feel, its the way you make me feel.

I never mention it, my tongue slips down into my chest, cages itself up

Like hers, it crawls back up, only when I need to write what I am too scared to say

It crawls back up only to speak of your mind, and your words, and the world you’re changing

Mine, hers, theirs.

(Source: littlelibs)

Your smile gives me so much peace of mind. 

It is a place that no one, no where else, can take me, its silence.

Its both confusion and calm at the very same time, it’s warm.

Its a reminder that there is a place I know that looks like home.

A place that feels familiar and comforting, a place I know will protect me.

A place to run away from everything to, a sanctuary right here on earth.

“All I know of heaven is the fragile heat between two bodies”

You wrap around me in your sleep, kiss my brow, kiss my shoulder and hold my belly.

Crouched around one another’s vessels like children, breathing out while you breathe in.

You tell me that it takes your breath away, how right this feels.

You hold me, with every intention of never letting go. I feel it, you make me feel it.

This is everything no one said it would be, this is more than butterflies and tangled sheets.

This is peace, this is ecstasy, this is silence, this is the moment between breaths.

(Source: littlelibs)

What if you knew me? I mean really knew me.

What if you knew that I fall in love with hands and eyes, what if you knew those were the only things I choose to remember about a person?

What if you knew that I cry at the extremity of any emotion and that when these emotions are too extreme, I can’t write, not even when I’m happy.

What if you knew that the reason I am bopping my head is to search for some rhythm within me? What if you knew that I am scared of the simplest things?

That when I was a child I was fearless, but now I am just an adult with phobias, and paranoia, what if you knew how much I yearn to be a kid?

What if you knew that my face didn’t always have these brow lines, these laugh lines, what if you knew that I didn’t always look this worn?

This aged, this beaten. What if you knew what made me look this way, this calloused?

What if you knew that I search for the truth in eyes, I search for it in the first ten seconds of an uncoming lie? What if you knew that I’ve lost faith?

In my mother, my father, my brother, my lovers, my friends. What if you knew how alone I feel?

What if you knew all the emotions that I try to hide, and fail at doing every time?

What if you could look at me and just know, read me like the open book I fight so hard not to be?

What then?

Would I look different to you, would I be more than a stranger?

Would you see something in me then? Would you feel some understanding?

Would you love me then? Or would all this make me a stranger again?

(Source: littlelibs)

Sometimes it’s hard to be this woman, this shell

This force that can’t be shaken, this butterfly that can’t stop flapping its wings.

Sometimes I feel like all the skin I’ve claimed, all the bone I’ve molded myself into,

all the callous I’ve given my hands, and all the grit I’ve given my strut…

Sometimes I feel like it’s not even there. Sometimes I feel like I am not this woman I say I am.

Sometimes I look at myself and it starts to sink in, all the faces of ugly I am.

I see a woman, who’s fingertips cling unto love, who’s not her own woman but a woMAN.

Sometimes I wake up, and I don’t love myself like I thought I did. 

I don’t feel all this strength and all the determination I claim is mine. 

Sometimes I am just not as beautiful as I wish I were. Sometimes.

Sometimes I have to stare at my scars until I remember, who I am and who I’ve been.

Sometimes I forget how beautiful my life is, how beautiful my story is, how beautiful it is that this story is mine, this life, mine, how beautiful it is to be mine.

(Source: littlelibs)

“I wish everyone had what we had”

I didn’t get it, I didn’t see how anything could cloud someones mind like that.

How the magic of metaphors, and trembling hands could blind someone;

to all the heartbreak and the lies, and all the silent promises that were never made,

but you believed them to be there, you believed there was substance

You believed.

After everything, you believed, you were an exception.

You never were, you were just a pretty face with witty words. 

You were loved, at night-time, when the hours were the hardest to pass by.

You were loved, when there was no one else to dive into, when there was nothing

new to be found. You were loved, when nothing else was around.

I never understood how you could still believe you had something no one else did.

I smiled, as if I understood, as if I wished I had what you had.

Inside, I felt pity, pity because I knew all the lies, I knew all the deceipt.

I knew how ugly you pretended things weren’t, I knew how deceiving the metaphors were.

I knew how ugly you pretended not to be, how ugly he pretended not to be.

So I laughed, perhaps, a little jealous on the inside, because your nights were still easier than mine.

Mines who’s were filed with unrequited love and desires.

Mines who’s nights were spent dreaming of all the coulda, shoulda, wouldas.

I let you believe that what you had was real and I let you believe that you were one of the lucky ones, to have the one you love, love you back.

I let you believe you had what no one else had, something everyone longed for.

And so I smiled, agreed, told you I wished I had it too.

Now I wonder, how many times I’ve made myself believe.

I wonder who looks at me, smiles, and wishes they had what I have.

(Source: littlelibs)

We spent the whole weekend together, wrapped around one another

Skin on skin, bones on bones, hands in the most intimate of places

I have never been this naked before, so naked that, you can see

every imperfection, every scar, every stretch mark, all the fat in my belly

I let you see it, I let you play with it, I wake up next to you, with the face I hide from everyone else

I let you see all of that, and I do it without fear or hesitation because I know you love it, every little bit

I know that I am not the most beautiful girl you know, but I know that you find me beautiful, every little bit, and I know that your heart is mine

I feel it when your heart beats out of rhythm, and when you kiss me in my sleep

I feel it when you grab me in your sleep the moment I lay down next to you

I know this because as naked as we were, and as intimate as we were, and as much as we slept together all weekend, we didn’t sleep at all

not in that sense, not sexually, and its not that we didn’t want to, there was just no need to

There was no need to prove our love for one another physically, we just do it, always.

We spend days together, laughing and playing, giggling till we fall asleep

We build together, learn together, experiment together, we do everything together

And even when I start to hesitate, you always remind me. 

You never let me forget what your love for me feels like.

I have seen every side of you, I have seen you do the ugliest things

It all makes me love you more, your very existence is something extraordinary

Your childlike laughter, your boyish hands, everything there is to know about you

I never know enough, there is always more, and it only makes you more beautiful

So I crawl back into bed with you, as you tuck me underneath you as I rest my head and fall asleep to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the very offbeat tune of your snores.

I love you.

(Source: littlelibs)

Deep down, I suppose I’ve known for a long time..

I’ve felt this before, it lurks within me constantly, boiling up and simmering down

this emptiness, it overpowers me, it screams, it kicks away all that it knows

my body, my mind, my soul, it all yearns for the unknown,

it yearns to be a stranger to everything around it, to dive into a new world .

I am tired of being familiar, I am tired of seeing everything I already know

It’s all been here too long, its worn me out, greyed my hair, aged my skin.

I look like I’ve been alive much longer, like I’ve seen too much.

Yet I’ve seen nothing at all, nothing. 

I’m not satisfied.

There is an intolerable hunger in me, for everything, yet nothing at all.

I look at my lover and as I kiss him, I forget, I forget what even led me here.

I look at my friends and I can’t seem to understand what has me here.

I will never be able to swim into the ocean with these anchors tied to my feet.

But then I think, it is much too soon, and I am living too far from the now, maybe

when the moment comes, I will just know, maybe then everything will disintegrate

Maybe it’s all being undone, stitch by stitch, maybe I am being reconstructed right now

Maybe because I know this, maybe this is why it is haunting me. 

I have always been my own misery, I will never be happy like this, waiting for the future 

with my hands still anchored to all the yesterdays that make my insides turn and my heart

beat out of tune, maybe I am just as lost as I pretend not to be..

Maybe I don’t even love myself, maybe I don’t believe anything I say, but maybe, I do.

I do, I must. 

I look at my lover and I think of his hands, and the specks of two toned caramel on his skin. I look at my lover and I think of his words, the way they’ve built a labyrinth inside me, life vibrating in every corner, there are flowers there, there is beauty there, and sometimes, even in the darkest hours of the night, you see it glow from the outside, through my skin, when he looks at me that way, as if this moment were all that matters.

(Source: littlelibs)

I do this too often. Maybe I step into too many people’s lives too often. I come in and I love with everything I have. I make you feel like there’s something there, some kind of security, some kind of safe haven within me. I look like you could trust me. I look like you could learn to love me. I share breath with you. I plan ahead with you. I make it seem like this will really go on for the long run… But it never does, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just me, maybe I run before I get too attached, before I find some kind of safe haven within you. Maybe you’ve said so much that I don’t know what’s real, I do that, read into things. I spend hours in my own mind trying to find out your intentions, even if you have none. Maybe I just pick at everything you do, maybe I find reasons not to love you, maybe I find bad intentions when there are none. I don’t know. Perhaps I’ve spent too much time leaving scars, intending on leaving marks. It’s not that I want to hurt you, I don’t. I just don’t trust people anymore. I know they never stick around. I know what I do, I know I am a breath of fresh air, I know I seem like you could love me but if you stick around me long enough you will see. You will see until you find something wrong with me, and whatever it is, it will give you reason not to love me, it will give you reason to stray away from me, reason to leave scars. I don’t blame you. We all do it, and it’s no one’s fault but the people before us who did exactly what we’re doing right now. Searching, searching until none of this is good enough, it never will be good enough. I will never be good enough. You will never be good enough. Love will never be enough. Interlocking hands will never be enough. These stories on our skin will never be enough, and they will never tell enough, but you will always think they say it all.

(Source: )