she//her ♡ reader ♡ writer ♡ existential crisiser ♡
580 posts
I'm Not Jealous That You Might Like Them More Than Me...I'm Jealous About The Fact That They Might Make
I'm not jealous that you might like them more than me...I'm jealous about the fact that they might make you happier than I can
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More Posts from Wisp-of-thought
I thought I loved you
And then you left
And I realized I most definitely did
~Always a little too late~ T.R.
If you let me love you...
If you let me love you
I would love you like how the sun leaves lipstick stains on your skin
Like how the moon trails your shadow and laughter
Like how fireflies emerge from your fallen tear drops
And the wind dances until it makes you blush pink
I would love you like how the rain washes the day clean off your skin so you can breathe again
I would love you the way nature intended you to be loved
The way you have forgotten you deserved to be loved
If you let me love you
Stopped glancing away
And dancing around conversations
And walking past me
If you looked at me
Let me look at you
Let me love you
I would tell you of how when you smile I can trace constellations in the spaces between your teeth
That when you open your eyes I can drown in galaxies that exist there
Pinpoint a pollen sized planet and make home there
Cease existing everytime you blink for a momentary eternity
I will trace the fractured lines of your heart on your soft palms and callused fingertips
If you let me love you
I will love you the right way
Which is to say that if you let me love you
I will let you love me too
Because sometimes the only reason you let someone in
Is so they will do the same for you
excuse*
~T.R.
Most of the time
I feel as though
The universe is testing my resolve
Because every breeze
Whispers your name
And every raindrop
Sounds like your laughter
And every shooting star
Begs me to wish for you
But i do not
For i know fate has a cruel sense of humor
To be a writer
Is to watch
Ink splatter like blood
& People scatter like shrapnel
To know that
Pencils are prayers
Pens are promises
& that poetry books
Are filled
With dying flowers
& wilting words