Sometimes I think of you curling deeper into the hollow of my arms, your cheek resting in the cup of my shoulder, and I am exploding. Every sane thought in me goes up in stuttering hot disbelief, a string of christmas lights blowing out and out and out until the corners of the mattress can barely contain my warmth. I imagine the sea winds whipping across the heat-baked highways, bringing you a kind of joy without me.
I am trapped on the eastern half of this bed by the ghost of you in the west. I am brave, I am trying, I am saying the words again and again, watching the impossible shapes of my mouth in the mirror.
There is a scar on the back of your neck that will always belong to my mouth. I want to grow old without ever forgetting the way your knee curves under mine. I want to go down to the river with your voice the last thing flickering through my lit nerves.
Just spending my morning staring at this app like I can keep a plane from harm with the sheer continuous force of my will hbu
She had curves in all the wrong places - some of them cast a 3-dimensional shadows, still others hummed a low, discordant note as they flitted about like flies. She was nothing like other girls - she was an abomination from the 6th plane of torment
It is mid-July and I am still approximately as white as the wall behind me but damn, my friends are some beautiful humans.
roundtop replied to your post: I haven’t had a hickey since New Year’…
fun fact: i’ve never received a hickey. it is probably rude of me to tell you this but that’s not stopping me.
I’m v unsure how this is rude, unless the implication is “I’ve never received a hickey but I’d like to give it a shot sometime help a girl out,” in which case you are halfway across the country so RUDE
I haven’t had a hickey since New Year’s Eve 2010, which is just long enough for this to be kind of novel and delightful again.
[Lana Del Rey plays in background]