pomegranatefingertips
the bags under my eyes are the color of your lungs.
i sleep 13 hours a day,
but they still look like midnight.
my knuckles are the color of the sunset the night you stayed over.
i punched the wall we kissed against until it caved in.
my knees are so bruised they look like your favorite wine.
when i was seven years old, my mother and i got into a car wreck.
all of our windows shattered and glass penetrated my chest and arms.
we haven’t spoken in months and i’m still pulling pieces of you out of my flesh.
you blindsided me.
kylaonline
I don’t mind getting naked or seeing you naked. I don’t mind talking about sex or having sex or never having sex. I don’t mind my body or your body with mine. I don’t mind your sweaty palms, your chapped lips, your dirty tongue. I don’t mind your noisy music, your crappy poetry, your soiled shoes and ugly handwriting. I don’t mind 2ams and late night phone calls, stolen kisses and white lies. I don’t mind your half-eaten donut, frozen teabags and sticky hair. I want your toothbrush’s head leaning towards mine. I want your 4am back massage. Cup my breasts and don’t say they’re small. I already know that. Kiss me once and kiss me more. Pretend what we’re doing is illegal. It’s always good to be caught with our mouths tied together like handcuffs. Dry your cheeks and make me bleed. Crave me. Crave me. Crave me.
kylaonline
'You are beautiful like demolition. Just the thought of you draws my knuckles white. I don’t need a god. I have you and your beautiful mouth, your hands holding onto me, the nails leaving unfelt wounds, your hot breath on my neck. The taste of your saliva. The darkness is ours. The nights belong to us. Everything we do is secret. Nothing we do will ever be understood; we will be feared and kept well away from. ..It’s you and me in this room, on this floor. Beyond life, beyond morality. We are gleaming animals painted in moonlit sweat glow. Our eyes turn to jewels and everything we do is an example of spontaneous perfection. I have been waiting all my life to be with you. My heart slams against my ribs when I think of the slaughtered nights I spent all over the world waiting to feel your touch. The time I annihilated while I waited like a man doing a life sentence. Now you’re here and everything we touch explodes, bursts into bloom or burns to ash. History atomizes and negates itself with our every shared breath. I need you like life needs life. I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know.” - Henry Rollins
(via ramonaray)
rainierstateofmind
First love is scary because it’s like “holy crap, why is this person the first thing I think of in the morning, why am I disappointed when I don’t dream of them? Why is the desire to be with them so much stronger than hunger and thirst and exhaustion? Why does their name look so pretty written down? Why do I feel like I just fell out of a 30 story building when they look at me, and why do I like it?” And you become so comfortable with them that when they leave, your body doesn’t know how to react because they were as common to you as breathing, and now you’re missing a vital part of yourself. You forget that you were someone before them. You think “I was so empty until I met them.” No, you were full. And when you learned about love, you were fuller. Now you’re back to where you were before, and you need to fill yourself with other things. Fall in love with the way sunflowers naturally curve to face the sun, and the way children have no idea about taxes. Fall in love with the fact that you’re here and you’re still able to feel. Fall in love with the idea that you’re still whole, even when it’s 3 am and you can’t remember how to breathe because you think they taught you how to do that.
Lessons about Heartbreak from a Hypocrite by Megan M.  (via hefuckin)
kylaonline
The truth is, I can’t be with you like this. I mean, I know I said that I could, but I can’t. I just can’t compromise myself like that. I mean, I’m an emotional person. I feel things and I need to be able to get upset, and talk about how I’m feeling. I mean, that’s just, that’s who I am, and I can’t change it. I don’t want to. And the thing is, you knew that, you knew it, and you still pursued me. Because you want something with me. You just aren’t strong enough to have it. Which in a way makes you a coward. And the saddest part is that, one day you’re going to wake up, and you’re going to realized what you missed and its going to be too late.
Felicity (via wordsthat-speak)