Been knitting like a motherfucker for the past week.
Here is what I know:
You drink your coffee black and we are afraid of each other.
Once you kissed my neck in front of your friends
and it made me very shy.
Once you kissed my stomach and I started crying.
I see the tender way you touch things and want to kiss your nose
but I keep my mouth to myself.
Your collarbones are craters big enough to fit my fist into.
You are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in months.
I was not good to the last person I loved so I punished my heart
(I let it break and bleed out then roughly sewed it back together)
It is hard to write poems when I only know how to fuck you.
I am always trying. I am thinking of Somedays. I am saying goodbye.
You asked why I never write anything honest so I am writing you this.
That’s fucked up
sext: hey you’re kinda cute oh god fuck was that okay of me to say holy shit did i make you uncomfortable im so fucking sorry [sweating profusely] fuck
|*Wakes up in the middle of the night*|
|Me:||Please don't be 6am|
|Me:||MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS TO ME!|
|*Shoves face back into pillow*|