1. i want to speak the language of your body

    i want to reach across 
    these many miles
    like drawing a line across a map
    and for even just a moment- 
    touch you.
    i want to explore your body,
    the tips of my fingers
    grazing over each inch of your perfection
    i want to speak to your body
    the language of kisses
    my lips speaking quietly, hungrily
    to your bare skin
    i want to tell my secrets to
    your stomach
    and my stories to your thighs
    i want to be fluent in the language
    of your curves
    i want to know every nuance
    and every syllable
    as if they were my native language 

     
  2. I will always hate myself

    for being such a goddamn coward.

     
  3. 00:46 11th Jan 2011

    Notes: 3

    Reblogged from critiquingthecritics

    everythingwasbeautiful:

    I wasn’t born a monster.

    Taking the first train out of town wasn’t the bravest thing I could have done, nor the most original, but courage and creativity do not run in my veins.

    You once told me there were over 10,000 miles of railway in Texas. I wonder now if I laid out my insecurities and doubts and all of the lies I told you, if it would add up to a hundred miles or a million.

    I could ask you, but it wouldn’t earn me an answer now.

    There are a lot of things that I would ask you if it would make a difference.

    You collected stones. Only the smoothest ones, tossed up by the sea on the west coast. Once a year, you would go to collect them. I was never invited.

    On the day you died, those stones taunted me. There were thousands of them. They were piled up in heaps in dusty corners. I never understood why you kept them. If I had the chance, I would ask you now.

    I remember the night you called me, yelling senseless things through the line until you got tired. Your breath hitched and caught, heavy in my ear. You hung up and we never spoke about it again.

    Your face was so beautiful underwater. Your thick eyelashes. Your lips, pouting in a final objection. Your skin was as white as our sheets and as smooth as the words you spoke.

    Some people talk in their sleep. I hope to God I never do.

    (Source: critiquingthecritics)

     
  4. Revision.

    I remember the beginning, but what I remember most clearly is not the beginning,  but the beginning of the end. The walls of our love cracked, crumbled, and collapsed on top of us. Burying us in shattered trust and misplaced secrets. I was trapped under the remains of your words. You were broken by the bricks of my lies. The beams which were composed of the nights we spent together forced my lungs to collapse. The letters which I wrote to you turned to stone and crushed you in your sleep. The poetry which I wrote on your walls tumbled down into my mouth and I choked on my own words. Every small touch your fingers once graced me with combined to form the splinter that lodged in my temple.    

    I tried so hard to hold it all together. I used promises to coax the shingles of what was left to remain. But empty promises will not hold the weakest of bonds. I broke my back building a column of plans for our future. It was heavy, but it did not hold. Good intentions are not enough to support a life together. You threw your head back and laughed. I did not understand.

    Your lips were the most potent weapons of all. When you spoke, your words traveled up my spine to pierce my skin like daggers. Every beautiful syllable was poison to me. The taste of your kiss alone was enough to paralyze me for what seemed an eternity. Your lips lingered on mine as the world we built together collapsed. I felt my heart turn to stone in that moment. For a fleeting moment, we knew each other. We broke away. Time stopped, and then began again, increasing in pace. I was always afraid of what I did not know, but in the end, it is that which we hold dear which kills us.

     
  5. The walls of our love cracked, crumbled, and collapsed on top of us. Burying us in shattered trust and misplaced secrets. I was trapped under the remains of your words. You were broken by the bricks of my lies. The beams which were composed of the nights we spent together forced my lungs to collapse. The poetry I wrote on your walls tumbled down into my mouth and I choked on my own words. Every small touch your fingers once graced me with became the splinter which lodged in my temple. The letters I wrote to you turned to stone and crushed you in your sleep. We became victims of the things we once held dear.

     
  6. You spoke the sweetest words
    Out loud, or whispered in my ear
    Untold tales of a beautiful future
    Love that was brighter than a thousand suns
    I could not have hoped for a better story
    Every word you released
    Drizzled like honey down my spine

     
  7. 22:21 8th Sep 2010

    Notes: 1

    Kissing the lips of someone whose heart you have shattered is the most exhilarating thing you will ever experience.

     
  8. [I.]

    Exhale.
    Tiny droplets of chlorinated water expel into the air.
    They linger, then fall.
    Shoulders, arms, hands.
    Tense.
    Muscles contracting, fluid motion cuts through surface tension.
    Thighs, calves, feet.
    Taunt.
    Rhythmically beating in a perfectly synchronized pattern.
    Head turning.
    Cheek breaking the water.
    Exhale.

    [[II.]]

    Inhale.
    Tiny dropletsof salt water expel from watery eyes.
    They linger, then fall.
    Fists. Clenched.
    Open, then closed.
    Muscles tight, strung with tension.
    Heart.
    Cardiac muscles rhythmically beating in a frantically throbbing pattern.
    Head turning.
    Cheek, covered in salty trails.
    Inhale.

     
  9. I think about you

    I wish I could remember

    The sound of your voice

     
  10. I woke up in another town.

    I couldn’t remember my name and I couldn’t remember my story, where I came from.

    All that I remembered was vague, a memory of your fingers trailing down my spine, your lips pressing lies into the back of my neck.

    Your words good as sold, I bought them with all that I had.