I dont even know I can write this.

soundtrack of this post: Little Do You Know by Alex and Sierra, i wrote this while listen to them.

if I’m being honest, there was always a home in my heart for you. And though we never made it past getting high in my studio and falling into each other’s ocean, your lips tasted like honey on mine and I still think about how they’d feel between my thighs.

I touched you once and felt like I had touched you a thousand times before. I’ve felt the energy dancing just below the surface of my skin ever since. a new kind of starving.

I think about you often, by the way. And even though you call me trouble and have this theory that all you’ll do is fuck me up in the end, I have this theory of my own that, maybe, just this once, I wouldn’t mind getting fucked up. At least it would cause me to feel something again. At least it would mean that somehow, in some way, you were mine. Even if it was only for a few moments. Even if it means we never make it past tangled limbs and heavy breathing. Even if my bed is the only place we ever meet. Even if we’re just using each other for our bodies, hoping to find comfort when all we’ve ever known is emptiness and destruction. Loneliness and sadness.

Even if I’m detrimental to your health, and you to mine, I’ve become so accustomed to stab wounds and broken lungs that I’m willing to take my chances with you. I’ve spent too many nights on my own, and I can’t seem to not think about your lips each time I close my eyes. So I’ll take your warnings with a grain of salt and let you push me into your bed and pull me into your arms and paint galaxies in my eyes but I can’t promise that I won’t lay there connecting those stars for the rest of my life.

You’re all danger and empty words and I’m all pain and broken promises and together we can create a storm so violent it would put hurricanes to shame and I think maybe we may be onto something.

so, take the chance... don't be scare.. I think that maybe you may not be as broken as you think. I think that maybe there’s nothing wrong with feeling sad and nostalgic and like there’s no damn place for you in this world. Like maybe you accidentally built your home in a living, breathing human and now they’re gone and you haven’t stopped looking for solace since.

And maybe I’m that comfort that you’ve been searching your whole life for. Maybe when you put your lips on mine that night so long ago the planets aligned, and Mercury has been in retrograde ever since we’ve been apart.

Or maybe I’m wrong. And maybe I’m just desperately searching for the answer to why I can’t help but look at you like you put the goddamn stars in the sky. Maybe being lonely isn’t any different from being alone, and maybe I’m just done being anywhere but your side.

And, the thing is, I can’t help but picture how you’d look crawling on top of me in bed or how your hands would feel around my throat. and I’m not so sure how someone could get under my skin so easily but what I do know is at least if blood is drawn this time, I wouldn’t mind it so much. And by the way, I wouldn’t mind drowning in the sound of your  silent scream.

I know you say you’re dangerous and I know i may be flirting with destruction but this can either be really fucking bad or really damn good and I’m willing to take that risk. but apparently you wouldn't.

Note: My feeling are mine, you force me to forget, but forgetting is a harder fight. 

i dont blame you for what i feel, please don't blame me for how you feel.