I want you.
Your lips on mine.
Your hands around my waist.
My lips on your neck.
My hands running through your hair.
I want you.
In my bed.
Right next to me.
Holding me tight.
Talking about anything.
Gentle kisses in between thoughts.
Our tired eyes holding contact.
Slowly falling asleep.
I’ve stopped being sorry for all my soft. I won’t apologise because I miss you, or because I said it, or because I text you first, or again. I think everyone spends too much time trying to close themselves off. I don’t want to be cool or indifferent, I want to be honest. If I love you at 5AM, I’d damn well rather that you know I felt it. If I love you two hours later, I’ll tell you then too. Listen, I won’t wait double the time it takes for you to text me back because I don’t want to. I don’t care enough to be patient with you. I’m happy, you made me feel that way, don’t you want to know? So that’s how it’s going to be. I’m going to leave myself as open as a church door. And I’m going to wake you up before the crack of dawn to tell you that I’m fucking joyful, no pretending, not from me, not ever. Would you like some coffee, would you please kiss me? Here, these are my hands, this is my mouth, it is all yours.
- “Don’t Wait Three Days to Text First.” (via slutfactor)
one last straw
could be strong enough to make this work
or throw away everything.
- No Good at Saying Sorry (One More Chance) - The Early November (via somuchfeel)
One day soon I’m going to try
to walk away. I know this
because I’ve spent the last two
months convincing myself not
to and some nights I almost fail.
I’m telling you this because
tonight I know it’s a mistake. I’m
telling you this so that you know
to fight for me. Please, please
don’t let me go.