July.

“WITH YOUR HELP, WE CAN WORK TOGETHER AND PUT AN END TO CHILD TRAFFICKING. T H I N K A B O U T IT. An end to child trafficking means…. 40,000,000 less children being abused each year 150,000,000 less girls & 73,000,000 less boys experiencing sexual violence 1,800,000 less children being involved in prostitution and pornography 1,200,000 less children that will become victims of trafficking”

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The end of whiskey bottles are supposed to make me forget you, not remember you twice as hard.

some nights may seem hard to get through, but throughout the mist, when the fog feels like it’s suffocating you and you can’t seem to navigate the stars. Please remember that the sun will rise again, and it will always rise again.

how the imagination is thick inside my head

you on top,

me underneath,

crumbling by just sound of your voice.

moaning by the touch of your fingers, and oh, how you move them just right.

tonight with you, I meet heaven for the very first time.

#poem #writer

it takes a certain kinda soul to see the beauty in someone’s darkness. Perhaps the truest kinda love is loving the darkest most ugliest parts of someone, and understanding that you might not be able to change them, but you’ll love them anyway.

sometimes the people we want forever aren’t always the people that want us forever, and that’s okay.

love is understanding that he brought back the light in me, and I created the light in him. Even if the story ends with us shinning in different rooms.

the more I grow older, the more I realise, poets are liars. missing someone is not a romanticise ghost that haunts the corner of my room. It’s not remembering the smell with the flashes of good memories resurfacing . it’s hearing someone that sounds like them and your throat catching and then suddenly you’re unable to speak. It’s smelling what they used to smell like, and an uneasy amount of home sick rises up to your stomach and all of a sudden it pours out. It’s going to bed with a drowned pillow because the moment you close your eyes, they’re there. Picture perfect, as clears as day. the way they felt burns your body from the inside out. failing in love with someone is like the loving the devil, you’re lucky if you’re anything but a pawn in his silly little game.

Maybe the right kind of love isn’t the one that burns like a 100 acre forest fire. Maybe it burns more like a quiet candle on a cold night, when all the electricity in the house has gone out.

I hope he knows that it’s him I love most. That from now, in every life, I’ll search for him. It always has and always will be him.