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Screening
Baby, you were made for the movies,
but I can’t share you with the silver screen.
Your beauty beams throughout the theatre,
and the world watches what I’ve waited my life for.
Some nights,
as your shirt sheds your skin,
and your body is mine,
I hate you.
Your shirt has been shed for other eyes,
and your body is second hand,
and my hands take it personally.
You have loved before me,
You’ve had joy before me,
but you were my first screening,
and you’re vintage.
I want to go home.
I’m not made for this monotony,
to toil under jealousy,
through our Hollywood love affair,
but my eyes belong to you,
and rest, so obsessed,
on your body,
no matter who else has had the pleasure.
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Everything That Mattered
My last words to you, throb in my throat, scratching and crawling, to escape, to reach you one last time.
I’m surrounded by suffocation, and the ground is lava, so I’ll leap into your arms, and pretend we never parted, then I’ll fall to the floor, unable to reach the arms, I’ll miss forever.
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I wish I wouldn’t care so much about her.
(via bedtime–thoughtz)
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loving you is the best thing i’ve chosen to do
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Seeing Jennifer Juan get attacked for writing about teacher crushes and relationships with older people really scares me. Discovering her writing inspired me but now I'm too scared to share any of it, because I know I'll be attacked like she was, and for what? Falling in love and having the nerve to turn it into art?
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Cliché
You said you were nothing, without her.
I said, you are everything, to me.
You said she was like a stunning sunset
I said I can’t wait for the sun to leave.
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Scrubbing, Spritzing and Holding
She can scrub my lipstick from your collar, nude stained when nude, vanished by vanish. God damn it, she tries.
She can spritz my perfume from your coats, the virtue of vanilla never appealed to you, in scent or in sex, but God damn it, she tries.
She can hold you hostage in your home, hold you to your vows. More than my lips and candy bling are stained on your soul, but God damn it, she’ll try.
I wait, will wilting, painted and perfumed, for the cautious, callous call. I start scrubbing and spritzing too, holding myself hostage, but in my heart, I know it’s been too late, for too long, and God damn it, I’ve tried.
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I’m not allowed to want you, And you’re not allowed to want me. So I’ll just wait here patiently, Hoping you’ll break the rules.
Every Last Word (via yourstoriesmatter)
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Is it just me, or is intelligence the most attractive thing in a person?
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Seasons
You did so much, from May to December, and I ran, in knee socks, and inappropriate shoes, to catch up.
I was covered in you, bleached head, painted toe. Human mood board, with the seasons. Fantasies found in your browser history.
Hide and seek was fun, you found me, cuddling college debt, in the cupboard under the stairs, enchanted by your jazz records. You said, I was the best of you. Slipped me notes, as you slipped away. and I had your devotion. When I fell, we played on the carpet.
Scotch and cigarettes, remain on the shoulders of that same winter coat. Over that same little dress, that you always liked best, to say, goodbye.
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Don’t. Don’t stare at me because it gives me hope. Don’t give me hope because it makes me happy. Don’t make me happy because it makes me fall. Don’t make me fall because it hurts. Don’t hurt me because I can’t hate you for it. Don’t make me not hate you because I should. Don’t stare because it make me think you feel the same, even the smallest things give me hope.
Pathetic girl in love (via 06-06-1999)
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Photo

Glad to be getting so many likes! Thanks to the few who followed me!
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