He loaded the bullet and begun roulette, wrote about how I smelled like whiskey and regret. His eyes said upset while his mouth spoke, it’s time to accept.

I love him. So much. To the point where you won’t understand. You don’t get it because I don’t get it. It’s there. It exists. It flows. It moves like rapids through my veins. Comes with bursts and occasionally fades with the day, but it’s always there. And when you find love like that, you don’t want to give it up. But sometimes you have to and sometimes you have to give it to someone else. That’s the hard part.

They say if the love is true, then it’s easy. But that’s false. Love is complicated. It’s sticky. It’s bliss and it’s a mix of emotions. It’s not easy.

I’m a very intense person. The way I look in your eyes, my stance, how I walk and choose my words. The way I say your name and the look in my eye that says I need you here.I have an extremely distinct aptitude for the way I present myself and the energy I give off. It sounds egocentric, but they always remember my name, my mind and the force behind my voice.

drafts on your skinwords of your necki’m spinning in heavencaressing in hellwe’re dancing as ifwe're the only oneshere

We’re meant for each other for a moment, but no one knows how long the moment lasts except the moment itself.

And I touch. Not because I want to feel, but because I’m looking to see if this is real.

We weren’t running on fuel, we were running on fumes.

I gave him my heart without thinking how it would feel if he returned it.