When they ask, how I know.

#29


I guess it’s maybe when she touches your hand, you feel it everywhere else. Or when she looks at you, you feel like you’re the only human left in the entire world on an earth that is swaying, as if it were an unsteady boat on rough water. But her stare reaches out to yours like “Don’t trip, I got you.” And that look, quiets all the fears you’ve ever played inside your brain. Maybe it’s when she laughs. The way her tone knocks on the bones of my knees, paralyzing my feet, so when I get up, I just fall for her all over again.
Maybe it’s her smile; my favorite outfit. Because she wears it like nothing else fits her. Even through rips and tears, or subtle spills of heartache stained on her lips from the words that never made it; nothing else can fit her. And in an unlit room, warm from heavy exhales echoing against painted walls, I would demand her to take everything off…except for that smile, because I know how much that makes her feel naked. And my god, she is fucking beautiful naked.

Dear Mother.

Shattered glass from our chinese vases were sprinkled onto the carpet like decorations on a birthday cake. All I remember, was signing my footprints in blood on the tile floor as I stumbled to follow you into the bathroom. Every piece glittered like something from a fairy tale; You were the princess and he was the prince here to rescue you. So you locked yourself inside a tower, waiting to be saved. He never made it. And you waited. While each magical crystal greeted your porcelain skin with an unfamiliar color, because all you knew was white. Each line represented the the sand inside your hourglass that fell to the bottom. And you did this for hours on end, while I’d bang wildly against the locked door. There was no more sand. You kept waiting. I was waiting, for you to save me while you waited for him to save you. I was 5. I learned how to swim that day, but only in the shallow end of my own tears. Rinse and repeat. The last line of instructions I could never accept. This was your thing. Your herbal essence. Your any kind of shampoo. And all I wanted to do, was never shower. Only in fear of the dirt you could accumulate so soon after, chasing poisoned apples in their twisted garden. But I did it, to wash away your sins. Because this children’s tale you told couldn’t be tainted with this.
And each day, your hair would grow longer. I found myself trying to climb each strand to get to the top of that beautiful brain. But they were all split ends. I fell, each time I thought I could reach you. So instead, I helped you braid those locks of hope so I could toss it down to this so called knight.
You were the Queen of Hearts. None of them, none of them, none of them were Kings.
And when the cards came crashing down, you would continue to reshuffle, while I hid all the Jokers.
And when no one returned that glass slipper, you would purposely lose another, while I walked carefully in your last pair.
And when you slept, you never took your lipstick off, so I laid there with you while I held tightly onto your favorite color watching it melt inside my palms.
The last night you read me the happy endings of each sugar coated story, I saw your fingers cross.
See, you will always be the Beauty, and he will forever be the beast.
But I’m the prince who saves you.
It was always supposed to be me.

#38.

She looks at me like “Truth or Dare?”
I choose both; I choose her.
Because she is the most honest risk I will ever take.
Deep brown, and coated with Jameson
Her eyes
Dance all over my face
Searching for something to hold on to
So she finds my stare
Captured and captivated
Held hostage under her drunken spell
Let her gaze into my soul
Until she sees her own
While I’m laying on her bed
Wrapped in a blanket that domes our moans
My bones become clumsy
My legs become weak
I don’t have to stand to know that I’ve already fallen
And she spills her intoxicating truths into my pupils; 
I am drunk in love, with the way she looks at me at 2am.

#38.

She looks at me like “Truth or Dare?”
I choose both; I choose her.
Because she is the most honest risk I will ever take.
Deep brown, and coated with Jameson
Her eyes
Dance all over my face
Searching for something to hold on to
So she finds my stare
Captured and captivated
Held hostage under her drunken spell
Let her gaze into my soul
Until she sees her own
While I’m laying on her bed
Wrapped in a blanket that domes our moans
My bones become clumsy
My legs become weak
I don’t have to stand to know that I’ve already fallen
And she spills her intoxicating truths into my pupils;
I am drunk in love, with the way she looks at me at 2am.

I love you. In 60 years, I love you. Centuries later, I love you. In every damn parallel universe, I love you.

"Oh my heart hurts so good. I love you, so bad, so bad."

Because I haven’t posted a selfie on this since forever ago. Herro 👋

Because I haven’t posted a selfie on this since forever ago. Herro 👋

My next 60 years, plus centuries, next lives and parallel universes, is her.

My next 60 years, plus centuries, next lives and parallel universes, is her.

A Visual Mixtape Vol 1

My head is pressed against your skin.
Listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat as they slow dance with your breath. You vibrate my bones, from the bass in your tone and all you said, was “Hi.” But you also did it with your eyes. While strobe lights glisten inside those pupils, you look at me… like I’m Disco. And I’m spinning at the edges of your fingertips; the way you touch me like music. And I know just how much you love music. So I stay in your trance. And we play the game of lazy. The one where we don’t greet the children of the sun who sneak through uneven blinds, playing hide and seek with the lids above our eyes. And my legs slither around yours, until I accidentally knee your thighs… So I can casually apologize, “I’m sorry but I need* you.” Here and right now. Swaying under covers while your hands push into mine, every time I attempt to reach for my breath. I know you don’t take requests… But do you mind, if we never leave this bed?

What I’m trying to say is, I miss you in the morning.

hllprpr said: nah, i'll see you -- soon. i love you.

Soon. I love you, through centuries, next lives and parallel universes… I’ll love you.

Cue. Repeat.

hllprpr:

The way your body falls like a graceful avalanche onto mine lets me know you’re deep in sleep, as does a mountain full of flowers you rise, then descend like a petal and… tell me how is it that when you feel yourself falling to my chest you push down a little harder? Your hands they hold onto my…

My girlfriend takes my breath away. *swoon

ETA, is always.

The distance between you and I is approximately 2,790 miles away. 1 day and 19 hours, driving. 5 hours, flight time. And google maps says there’s only 3 alternate routes to reach you, but I’m gonna prove them wrong. See you’re closer to me than they think. I can hear you asleep in my chest, breathing into my heart. Swimming in the tsunamis that tumble in my stomach. Running marathons in the mazes of my brain. You flow out of my deep exhales when I think about how amazing you are and how blessed I am to call you mine. You’re everywhere, you’re in me, and that’s closer than any navigation system can read. The distance between you and I, is approximately 2 inches, from my hand to my chest, in patting motion, when I swoon over the thought of you. 5.25 seconds, from type to send. 100 milliseconds to see your smile, blinking time.
And I will explore those 3 alternate routes, but then I will get lost on purpose. So I can find every hidden path not listed on these maps. I wanna travel on your bones until my heels echo in your soul, and then knock on your heart to tell you that I’m home. And that no matter how far you think I am, I’d always find a way to you.

hllprpr said: hello, again.

Hi fun sized ass, will I see you at Pride next year? ;)

It’s you.

Like in movies, there’s always a song associated with every beautiful moment. Sometimes in real life, it’ll happen. And everything in that moment will feel in perfect order that you don’t even realize you’re in the middle of your own movie scene. It’s only until you hear the song again alone that you remember. Remember where it took you. Remember how it felt. Remember who you shared it with. And that’s when you remember that sometimes the best things in life, aren’t things.

She held her arm out of the window and let her fingers dance with the wind. Letting this song glide into the entrance of her ears, as she closed her eyes and lightly swayed her head with the melody. Absorbing the sunshine into her skin, leaving her tone just a little more caramel. Zooming through the freeway so fast that the cars started to look like marbles, glistening in the sun as she left them all behind. So fast, that the trees looked like they were never ending. So fast, that she felt like she was the hurricane, taking over all that wasn’t hers. So fast that the speed pushed their arms to touch while switching lanes. Skin on skin, with a sign of light sweat. She almost forgot that she wasn’t alone. She opened her eyes to remind herself. She gazed at the path ahead, wondering if it was possible for the road to devour her and take her into a whole new world. She turned and saw you. And what seemed like just a casual glance before, felt like something completely different now. Her look fixated on the profile of your face. Studying the way your eyes always appeared so sad while your lips said otherwise. Traced the line of your sharp jaw with her pupils. And when she almost thought you were unreal, you slowly meet her stare. One quick second of contact, she was breathless. Her heart felt light. She knew no words. The feeling of silent simplicity and ultimate content kicks in. And you break a grin at her while you return your eyes to the road. The intermission before the climax. The small open window of realization that this exactly where she wants to be. The moment she realizes that it’s you. And what that means exactly, she still has yet to understand. But she know’s it real. And when she finds something real, she keeps it close and dear to her heart, because everybody wants it. Everybody wants this feeling. And only few can really say they’ve felt it. So she rides it. This feeling. Like its a white unicorn on a merry-go-round while she’s going circles in a kaleidoscope. Is it possible to fall in love all over again but want nothing out of it except for this exact moment? She melts into the song, holding on to nothing but these sweet words of the chorus:

And without you I can’t be,

You’re the universe to me,
You’re the air in my lungs,
You’re the fields where I run,
You’re the sky where I’m floating,

It’s you, you, you, you.

And without you I can’t be,

You’re the universe to me,
You’re the air in my lungs,
You’re the fields where I run,
You’re the sky where I’m floating.”

A painted silly smile on her face while her heart beats to that majestic drop. She looks back at you to find that you both are sharing this song. And it’s completely child-like and innocent. But this moment wouldn’t have been the same with anyone else. Its only because it’s you, it’s you.

Anonymous said: How come you no write anymoe?

You miss me? I’ll be writing again soon. Thank you for keeping me in mind :)