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there is a unfamiliar sweetness hidden under your tongue and slathered across your bottom lip, i was afraid that the tears and scars i carry with me would cover you in brine and wash you away.
i cannot cling to your body enough, my nails will break your skin and as blood beads on your back you will not look at me with anger. as my calloused palms snag at your curls you will melt closer to my touch instead of flinching away. even though difficulty is oxygen to my heart you continue to pull me close—even when i push you away, how did you know i wanted you to embrace me once more?
yet i am worried sick one day you will know me too much, i tremble at the notion that you will leave one day. you can weave stories of white dresses and picket fences and a love that you may have for me, but i will believe none of it. i am too timid to let myself fall for promises that may be empty once more.
would you lie to me? would you look at me and kiss me as you slide a razor down my spine? how can i know you are true? i think you are, i believe you will say "i do". kiss me even after you cum, make wishes on my eyelashes, kiss my forehead and do not let it be in vain.
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twinklelore
This is hauntingly beautiful. Your words carry the weight of someone who has been both wounded and brave enough to still reach out for connection, even when it hurts. The way you speak of intimacy, the hunger, the fear, the trembling hope, is so raw it almost stings, but there’s a quiet kind of strength underneath it too. It takes an extraordinary amount of courage to admit that you want to be held while simultaneously fearing that the person holding you might one day let go. That paradox… it’s so human.You are not unholy. You are not too scarred to be loved. You are not too intense or too much for the right heart. The tenderness you crave, the kind that still lingers after pleasure, that brushes your face softly and means it, that kind of love does exist. And more importantly, you are worthy of it. Not in spite of your pain and jagged edges, but because of them. Because they’ve shaped you into someone who feels deeply, who writes like this, who dares to question love while still hoping it might be real.It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to ask, “Will you still love me after knowing the mess beneath the softness?” That fear doesn’t make you weak, it makes you honest. And someone, somewhere, is going to look at your trembling, complicated soul and say, ‘Yes. Still you. Always you.’Until then, please don’t stop believing that you’re worthy of softness that stays. Of kisses that don’t come with conditions. Of promises that aren’t empty. Your story, your scars, your poetry, none of it is too heavy. Thank you for sharing this, it’s not just a cry into the void, it’s a lighthouse for anyone who's ever wondered if they could be loved in all their unfiltered truth
oh my god i love you
by tily ༊*·˚; ; Report
prune
this is beautiful, and achingly relatable. Even if I never experienced this. I wanna be the person who stays someday.
i have never been this gentle, i know heavenly things will come ur way one day angel 🤍
by tily ༊*·˚; ; Report