she got anxious and angry and began to cry.
“i dunno, i thought you would stop loving me if i told you.”
“that’s never ever ever going to happen. you silly little girl.”
his arms outstretched and opened to her. she was a little uneasy and still so very inquisitive on the matter but her heart was an unstable little heap of veins and arteries and she needed to collapse in the welcoming beacon of cotton and skin and beard scruff on her forehead.
once she hit that mark, her knees buckled and she leaned her whole weight.
in a muffled voice, compressed by his chest for her face rested in it, “i don’t know why i did it, honest i don’t. i love you, that’s all. thats why i do what i do. it’s cause i love you. i always have, i never won’t. please, please tell me you feel it. see it. tell me what i want to hear. i don’t think my poor little heart could take it.” she breathed in deeply, hoping to bury her words, to suck them back up and choke them down to the depths and pits of her empty stomach. it just kept spewing from her terrible little mouth.
“i do, i love you, i love you a million and one times, i love you and i love your soft dark hair and how it falls in front of your oval shaped face and the way your eyelashes flick up, pointing towards heaven. i love when you squeeze my hand, just to let me know you’re there and that you notice. i love you because of all the fucked up shit you do. it all just melts off of me when i look at you, when i see you demurely swaying in the dim lamp light. i love you. i didn’t think i did, i didn’t think i knew what love was, but i feel it for you and i want to feel it forever.”
And then all of a sudden I’m alone again. Like those moments of playful banter didn’t happen. I saw your eyelashes. They moved in a way that could not spell anything but pure adoration. Sugar sweet with a tangy aftertaste. It’s like I don’t even exist in another world. Any world but yours. I see you and, no matter how many times I tell my heart not to, and no matter how many times my brain believes it; it jumps around in my rib cage aching to break free. To suction itself onto your body. And it’s like it doesn’t even occurr to you that my thoughts never cease to piroutte back to the cascading waterfalls of emotion that I feel when I even get to drink you in for a second. You’re my hydration, and without you I have so many unquenched thirsts. Without you, I can’t think. Without pestering thoughts and jittery worries I cannot spill these words like a glass of red wine onto white carpet. Without love, nothing is permanent. I need fixation and dreams and hopes. I need to tie my strings onto solid and tangible ideas so that we keep in balance. I’ll float, high up above every everglade and every stream, and they will keep me grounded. Like roots into the soil, you keep me ever-changing, ever-wanting, never knowing. You make me real.
(Source: 13poop)
Hold them steadfast and tight. Or else the nighttime fishermen will release their lines and hook the tiny shiny beautiful sprinkles of light, the pinprick lanterns that reflect off of your swampy pearls set deep in your freckled face. Inject your veins with hope and dreams of men with beards and wine coloured lipsticks and lace brasiers. turn the flame on and dip your fingers into the silekn waves of navy and teal and foamy green. let the sweaters wrap you warm and toasty and scrap that butter onto your golden waffles. enjoy yourself.
(Source: 13poop)
She went to the ocean because that was where she had always belonged. It had been a long year and she could feel the exhaustion sinking into her sinews and capillaries. The sea sirens wafted salty November air in her direction, wrapping her body in an intriguing chill. She perched on a rock and removed her boots. Dipping her toes into the frigid water, she shivered with the delight of Fall. The years of Highschool had been tough on her with her nagging and over-reacting mother, bothersome friendships, and all of the waiting. Oh! The waiting. So she had mapped out a plan. Do well, keep to yourself, and look forward. Well, the mark had finally reached the final twist in the path, and the knotted vines of her woody wonderland released her to the world, reborn, anew. The waves rolled upon the beach, scented with her past, her present, and the promise of her future. She was ready.
(Source: 13poop)
there are some memories that come in fleeting thoughts. they encircle you, leave feelings on your doorstep, and just like a view of the nocturnal sky, they dissapear; leaving you in a dream. you remember the reverence, the complete satisfactory feeling, the hope, the childlike comfort. you remember small little htings like the crab apple tree and jacqueline whose name you thought was jack-o-lantern and how you found all those tiny little hiding places in that new car. and how your creepily attractive second cousin twice removed with a side of uncle like relativty joked that he had that car for a year prior and never knew about some of those spaces. you remember at first feeling so alone, so shy, and then as quickly as you and jackolantern where introduced you were friends, you felt like family. that children can just be. i would never ever want to go back to childhood but i do miss that childlike innocence. the subtle nuances and naiveties, just the way that children behave. it’s fasciniting. and hopeful, because i feel as if i may be coming into my second childhood. i’ve felt so grown up for so long and it’s beginning to feel reassuring to have this immaturity to fall back on. and it makes me seem like a coward; almost like ‘m scared to live but not ready to die.
(Source: 13poop)
always in reverie, always surrounded by flowers and rays of sun. never waning. never without a smile. she was my one true love from the moment my eyes fell gently on her glowing face. her eyes, like emerald leaves reflected on shallow indigo ponds. it was never set in stone with her. everything was in a grainy, film-like haze. she had a way about her. she moved confidently as if she were an actress. cool, calm, collected. she was mysterious, like a glazed night sky. you knew that there were both stars and planets up there, but which were which. just as you knew there were thoughts of you and of other men as she smirked inwardly… but which were which.
(Source: 13poop)
i liked quiet places. i liked to sit amongst sand dunes, or deep in the forest. Far far away from the rest of the world. don’t get me wrong, I loved parties and i loved all the beautiful women and fanciful evenings that they entailed. i loved crowded squares and luxurious parks. but when i sat in that abandoned light house, way at the tippity top, it brought it all back. the good feelings, and the bad. it brought it all back. the hurt feelings, the thoughts so harsh i could just give up and die right there. and then there were the thoughts of you. the first time we met. the first time i had you alone. that time you got me in the car to pick up a pizza in cambridge and we ended up driving all the way to the grand canyon. you had me wrapped around your finger, and you abused the hell out of it. and then i knew it. i knew i wanted you back. but you hurt me too badly to go after it again. i couldn’t do it to myself. so i now i go on. but, with the intention of giving myself to you fully if we are to ever encounter such circumstances again. i loved you, i love you, and i will continue to love you.
(Source: 13poop)
It started with the way she cupped my cheek in her hand and how she never adressed me with my real name. I would lie awake at night with thoughts of her laugh dancing through my head. When I would stroll alongside, my boyish heart would compose lengthy poems dedicated to the way her eyelashes stretched to the stars and beyond. Never-the-less, I did not fail to realize that she was only human and that she posessed flaws like the rest of us. Actually, rather discouraging flaws. For instance, how her head was always in the clouds or her spontaneity. Sure, we all love the dreamers; the people who can pack a weekend bag and hop the first train to wherever, but what the stories don’t tell you is where your dreamer becomes a burden. Every important decision was left til it could burst and things were never definite. And she wasn’t very tidy. Her clothes lay in heaps, her furniture askew; everything was all out of wack. She was neurotic and compulsive. She organized her DVD’s first Alphabetically, next by genre and finally had a separate shelf for television series. What I was beginning to realize, however, was that despite all of the flaws and in spite of her qualities, I was falling in love with this girl. This time I wasn’t going to let love ruin this relationship. This time, I was going to let Jemima’s spontaneous little brain do all of loving. It was going to be a goddamn hard task.
