please
don’t say things that you don’t really mean
don’t pretend that you “try” to keep me in your life; i can tell you aren’t
don’t act like my friend when you don’t do shit that a friend should do
don’t.
I’m not really sure why I ever considered you a “best friend” when there are other people who have been there for me in more ways than you have ever been in all the years we’ve been friends. I guess I’m not as important to you as I thought I was. screw u 2, i don’t need u.
after all these years
You’re having coffee in the morning, one of those mornings where everything is slow and sleepy and you’re still waking up, and then all of a sudden you’re kissing him, the kiss that involves two mouths that are still swollen from the night before, and the early rain is starting outside of the windows though it’s still sunny. There’s a bruise on his thigh the shape of a grapefruit but the color of a tomato and you put your mouth there thinking you can taste his heart through that bruise, taste some of the stars that swim in his bloodstream.
And you imagine being in this very same kitchen twenty years from now with greyer hair and a fatter body and still this will be the same boy that loves you, more wrinkles then, but still the boy he was, and even something like brushing your teeth together is an act of love.
The thing is, no one really knows the space they occupy in someone else’s mind. You underestimate the extent to which you are thought of, the extent to which someone wishes your warm body were pressing up against theirs. Yes, you will have cellulite years from now, you are not perfect, you get irritable and cranky and you have too many arguments with your sisters, but there are always the days when you want him so much that you stop eating banana pancakes for breakfast and take off all his clothes instead.
And when your two bodies meet, it’s like the first time all over again, only you’re both more experienced and practiced; it’s like returning home from a long journey overseas to a house that was so loved and cherished, a house that feels as familiar as your own skin, a house you could walk through with your eyes closed and not bump into a single thing.
(via sunnysuraj)
tank u TanTan
i never really liked
my name
much
until i found out
what it tastes like
when you sigh it
into my
mouth
(Source: oceanicforest, via shamunu)
She was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or else they think they have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid they’d bore you or something. Jane was different. We’d get into a goddam movie or something, and right away we’d start holding hands, and we wouldn’t quit till the movie was over. And without changing the position or making a deal out of it. You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were.
