That’s who you really like. The people you can think out loud in front of.
— John Green (via stay-ocean-minded)
It wasn’t my day. My week. My month. My year. My life. God damn it.
— Charles Bukowski, Pulp (via wolf-cub)
1,000 Midnights
Despite the mess of my sheets
I have no desire to fold the corners back onto the mattress
the way they were before you slept there
I do not want to rearrange the pillows
Neither do I want to pull the drapes
because that’s the way you left them.
We were whispering secrets into each other’s mouths
hoping they would remain concealed
I can assure you that they are safe with me.
I just want to spend another night in this bed
reliving what once was
Holding onto the best of our moments
Life has shown me that they often slip away..
As long as you wish,
I will hold you here
My arms wrapped around your neck
My bare breasts against your rib cage
My head tucked into your chest.
Whenever you touch me it feels like coming home after being away for so many years, and finally walking through that familiar door again.
at least i can admit i’m a piece of shit
