People who smile when things are tough
I love you
I feel like a piece of paper being ripped apart from the middle. Both ends have no idea what’s going on, but they know something isn’t right.
I can’t help it. Your lips are just so edible. I’ll say anything just to place my hands on your hips and let you lean in towards me.
I have a theory that his size is somehow based on or related to the length of his fingers, the width of his waist and the tautness of his lips when he smiles.
Yes. I am an asshole wallowing in self pity because sometimes when you fall, you need to stay there and lick your wounds until you’re ready to come back up and face the world again. Don’t mistake this for bravery; my poker face is just that good.
Impatiently waiting on Spring. Longing for warmer days with less gloom and lawn sprinklers itching to race. I’m not sure what I hope to achieve but I know what I don’t want. Indoors all day, wrapped up in layers of cotton with nothing but the company of my memories. These memories are nothing like the warmth and I need new ones to bury the old in. Sometimes people say things they mean or don’t mean, but here I am saying things that aren’t meaningful or useless either.
People always talk about “giving” or “not giving” second chances. But have you ever thought that what you consider to be a second chance isn’t really a chance at all?
It’s amazing how we have this ability to breathe without even thinking about it much. But once it’s taken away, we fight with everything we’ve got to breathe again. We fight death. Always. Constantly. With every wake. And every breath. Yet we have mastered the art of postponing things because for some godforsaken reason, we forget that we only live once.
I like how we create sentences like these that proclaim sarcasm from the very first three words. I like how it escapes the minds of several readers that we don’t like anything about what we are about to say. I like how readers get confused about what you really like and what you don’t once you have pointed this out. Or do I?
We took off our clothes. Kicking off sandals and peeling off skinny denim like second skin. We basked in the milky glow of the full moon that ate our excitement like raw meat. We raced towards the edge leaving little clouds of dust and deep sand compressions from the push-back of our toes. I wanted nothing more than to feel the ocean and the rush of earthly elements filtering through every pore. We hit the cold water with a splash and that’s when I remembered. We couldn’t swim.
I feel like I’m waiting for something. But what if that something is waiting on me?
Soft batting lashes kiss freckles that adorn your flushed cheeks like biblical constellations. Intertwined hair strands caress one another and you hug your existence ever so tightly with twig like arms, holding onto crumbling skin that flakes gently - giving into invisible memories of heartbreak.
I don’t know what to call this feeling. You’re right there in front of me but I miss you more than anyone I know.
The brocade of the couch upholstery pushes into her palms as she lifts herself off the couch. She glides over the soft give of the Persian carpet and the foyer’s cool tile. She grabs the icy brass doorknob and twists. The door creaks open. Wind whips her hair across her eyes. Snowflakes burn on her cheeks. The skin around her lips crease as her lips turn into a smile. He smiles back. His sharp hazel eyes glisten in the front porch light. His dark features make him more human. He’s come for her. Death has finally come.
I never post my writing online. But I’ll give you guys this little bit. I write non-fiction, fiction, science articles and a whole lot of crap too. My portfolio is as random as I am.
