fifty shades of grey'let's run away together' you said one night.More Like This
we both kept broken shards of glass hearts wedged deep into our ribcages. we were the love story that no one wanted to read because the beginning made no sense and the pages gave papercuts to foolish fingertips.
you told me to smile more and laugh louder and to stop seeing everything in only black and white. you saw the world through kaleidoscope-eyes, dizzy with color. i told you that gray was the prettiest color there was and i painted you a canvas sky in every shade to prove it. you knew it was only my favorite color because it was yours.
there was a song that i used to hum every time it rained just so i wouldn't forget the words, so i could sing it to you when you were lonely.
i like how you always say i'm weird, and laugh whenever i deny it.
I Want To Love YouI want to fall in love with you, I want to so badly. I want to be there for you in every way imaginable. I want to hold your hand and stand by your side through the trials and tribulations that are thrown in your way. I want to be there to help you celebrate your victories. I want to be there for you from beginning to end. I want to be the person you trust the most and confide in, I'd give anything to carry that responsibility. I don't want to betray you; I want the capability to be utterly honest and trustworthy to you.More Like This
I want to be the shoulder you go to when you need one for support. I want to be the small and frail set of arms you long for when you need a hug. I want to be the person you seek out when you need to be showered with affection. I want to be there waiting for you while you're gone. I want to be the one longing to come back to you when I'm gone. I want to give you everything I have, my heart, my body, my soul, my love and devotion. I want you to look past the fact that I
you're not prince charming.Do you remember the first time we met?More Like This
Sure thing, it was that barbeque a few summers back. I was wearing jeans and you were wearing a stained skirt. Youd tripped over your shoelaces that youd forgotten to tie and knocked over the ketchup. How could I forget that graceful creature?
I remember that you were wearing a cornflower-blue shirt that matched your eyes and I only tripped because youd smiled at me. I still have that skirt somewhere. And I remember that you danced with your five-year-old cousin because shed asked. Ive never seen anything sweeter in my life.
I remember that, my back still hurts from bending down.
It was adorable. And then you came over and asked my name. Why?
You were standing in front of the steak. I came for the meat, you were just a bonus.
Always a romantic.
Im a walking Hallmark card.
But you still asked me to dance.
who said love was beautiful.this is not what you're expecting.More Like This
i'm not going to write about the first time we kissed or the first time you whispered something beautiful into my clavicle or the first time we held hands and i swore that the earth shifted under my shoes. i'm not going to write about the first hello or the first goodbye or the first moonrise i watched reflected in your irises.
i'm not going to write about how your eyelashes are spidersilk and your mouth is a song and how when i was weaving the colors of your eyes into a sunset i got lost in the middle. i'm not going to write about how your fingers pluck symphonies above steaming mugs of tea and how looking you in the face is like holding my breath underwater.
i'm not going to write about that.
instead, i am going to write about the first time you dragged your hands through your hair and i noticed that your knuckles were scarred from too many fights and how i wasn't surprised in the slightest. i'm going to write about the time we stood in the kitchen
fitting togetherAnd this is where you're supposed to fit:More Like This
It's six thirty-eight in the morning and this is where we are supposed to wake up with you wrapped in my arms and the world wrapped in the pale blues of early morning light. Somewhere between the first flutter of my eyelids and the first flutter of our hearts I am supposed to be kiss-whispering "hellobeautiful"s and "riseandshine,starshine"s into the skin of your shoulder and the scent of your neck, and your spine is supposed to be against my chest and my hands are supposed to be on your hips and we are supposed to fit as perfectly as a pair of parentheses. It is six thirty-eight and as I am waking up you are supposed to be the first and most wonderful sight I see.
And this is where I am:
It's six thirty-eight in the morning and I am waking up tangled in sheets instead of tangled in you. I am sleeping too far on the right side of my bed and leaving too much space on the left and wishing too times two hard that you're really there and the shadow
PassengerMore Like This
She wrote me:
This is the time of all things read;
the time of books, clean hands, straw dogs,
shared looks. This is the time
that finds the time to settle down;
to open that smile with enormous plans;
to pound on metal rolled with rust;
to lie when lovers lie, alone, quiet,
in kitsch and style.
She wrote me:
Death for some is a careless cat,
one that lacks a voiceand love
and never plays chess.
But that is not my choice.
You see, I prefer the quieter sort;
the kind of death that stalks one
through shapeless blur, a caress of trust
and a lack of breathnow three, now two
a sweet bluff and a face that looks
of you, only that's not enough.
I remember the films during which you cry,
and the way you hide it, fiddling
with your change to make your eyes avoid
the two mice riddling some pocket full of holes.
I remember the nights you tried to pray.
You clasped your hands and dreamt up God
and what he may or may not do. And I,
following November, came with you.