Monthly Archives: July 2016

to all the boys i’ve kissed before:

Anyone can steal a kiss on the lips. I’ve grown so accustomed to men leaning in that I’m practically numb to the sensation. A kiss on the lips is almost cliché to me. There is no spark when his lips reach mine. I see no fireworks. I can kiss a man on the lips and forget all about him the next day. 14-year-old me would be disappointed. 22-year-old me says, “Hey! This is what my twenties are supposed to be like! Fuck off, 14-year-old me!” Maybe I just take them for granted. After all, it is just a kiss. So to all the boys I’ve kissed before: I’m sorry for playing with your mind, but I won’t break my back for you. 

But a kiss on the forehead could make me fly. You’re looking beyond my body, reading more than the words off my lips. You’re appreciating my mind, cherishing my intellect. You’re honoring the light in me, just as I will do with you. You’re not lusting after me. Your lips on my forehead aren’t asking me to follow you into the bedroom. You’re not undressing my body, you’re unraveling a different part of me; inviting me into that same part of you. That’s where I get my thrill. That’s where my adrenaline stems from. Anyone can steal a kiss on the lips. But the man who rests his lips on my forehead can have my heart forever. And his lips on mine will only taste that much sweeter.

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float

She loved you. Dear god, that girl loved you. You watched her give you all her time and energy. Meanwhile, you laughed in her face and walked away slowly, praying she wouldn’t notice you leaving. You stepped away in centimeters, though she would run endless miles for you. And you didn’t even care. You try to come around again, making it blatantly obvious that you want her back. Using a jealousy tactic, but still trying to be nostalgic with memories from a love that you left in shambles. But a year has passed and she is smarter. Stronger. Better. You try to sink her; to drown her in the sorrow that is broken dreams of a fucked up future. But in the last 12 months, she taught herself to float. She taught herself to fly. And she finally closed the door that you left cracked for a year. She moved on. It took a year for her to repair what you broke. And it took a year for you to realize that you love her. Dear god, you love that girl. You look back and see she gave you all her time and energy, and you try and chase after her. But now her boat’s halfway around the world.

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the spotlight dies

I always referred to you as my eternal dance partner. Now I’m dancing with someone new and it’s like you were never even choreographed into the piece.

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