Showing posts from January, 2015
When real love surprises you, you will be stuck in traffic, laughing at your predicament. It’ll take you half an hour to move two blocks, but neither of you would rather be anywhere else.

When real love hits, you will be riding shotgun. By this point, you’ll have taken off your heels because the ache is no longer worth it, and he will tell you that you look beautiful.

When real love washes over you, he will tease you for stealing his ice cream but will give you some anyway. And though you’ve had trouble sharing ever since the second grade, you’ll share too.

When real love showers around, your heart will notice things your eyes had never seen: the warmth of his touch, the strength of his grasp, the beauty of his blue eyes. You’d never seen eyes so blue.  

Four months later, you’ll be able to remember the pure scent of the night air. You’ll feel the distance separating you from him, and you’ll long to bridge it. These months later, you’ll still be writing poetry about that first night.

In 2015:

It has been a rough start to a whole new year, and in all honesty, I'm still trying (very hard) to gain my momentum again.
 You know how sometimes when life decides to go "hey, you know what? I have not messed with you in a while, so let me just do something about that" and then throws the MOST unexpected obstacle at you that hits you spot on in the face and despite people telling you to just "move the f on" and "get over it", there's this little tiny little voice in your head (no, I don't think it's your conscience) that tells you to just hang in there? Yeah, that's it.

It's 2015 and I can feel it deep in bones that this year is going to be a big one. I'm going to be starting university soon, this also means, a completely new environment and group of friends (but I'm still definitely going to be holding onto my old ones because I do love them so very dearly). I have always been awfully with goodbyes, so I still cannot fat…

I ache for:

they fall in love like the way eyelashes curl when they close,
like the sound of clinking ice cubes and bright laughs.
when they fall out of love, it’s like mourning doves,
and the space between sidewalks.
He is sunflowers and bright lights and he gives me red cheeks and a clouded mind and a quickened heartbeat. I love him and he kisses me like I'm made of glass. I dream of his smile.
"Maybe I'll find someone like you maybe I'll let her screw me over and over and over maybe I'll let the storms in her eyes drown me over and over and over maybe I'll let her words make a rope and strangle me over and over and over. These are all maybes, maybe. No maybes in me loving her. I'll definitely love her."