if you want me,
then do something
about it.
no poetry routine.
no pretty white lies.
just lay your hands
on the truth
and see
if you stay.
i’ve been here.
broken down
just to be
the target again.
so take me.
break me.
i’m obsessed
with the way
you ruin every rule
i ever made
for myself.
some days
i’m brave.
most days
i’m just starving
for the very thing
that’s destroying me.
~𝓜
you don’t love me loudly,
and maybe that’s why I stay.
you love me
like a light left on in another room
not calling me,
but refusing to let me be completely alone.
you never say “stay,”
but your silence rearranges my leaving.
and it’s strange…
how I’ve memorized the way you almost reach for me,
how your hands hesitate
like they know something I don’t.
we exist in the in-between
not broken, not whole,
just… paused
in a moment that refuses to end.
and maybe that’s our kind of forever:
not promised,
not certain,
just quietly… continuing.
We focus on the 'I love you' return, when we should spend more time noticing the actions that tell us we're loved.
The way they make time for us when they could be doing literally anything else w/anyone else.
How they reassure us, w/o making us feel small for needing it again.
Your hand slipped around my waist,
pulling me into that space
where words stop working
and heartbeats start speaking.
For a moment
we just stayed there
foreheads touching,
eyes half-closed,
your thumb slowly drawing circles
on the small of my back
like you were memorizing me.
And when your lips finally brushed mine,
soft… hesitant…
it felt less like a kiss
and more like a promise
we were both about to break
beautifully.
It’s strange
how love works.
One day
you’re just another person
passing through my quiet life.
The next
your voice
is the first thing
my mornings search for.
Your name
is the last thing
my thoughts whisper at night.
And somehow
without asking permission,
you became
the softest part of my world
and the most dangerous habit
my heart refuses to break.
Intimacy is the quiet echo of someone’s presence in your chest, a warmth that travels through your veins even when miles apart. It’s hearing their laughter in your mind, feeling their touch as your heart skips, and knowing...without seeing ,that they are stitched into your being.
I don’t need
no safe word tonight,
no forever after,
no distractions,
just me trembling,
all yours when you use me,
watch me bend,
watch me break….
nobody gets to me like you do,
I only burn like this when you're the one holding the match,
and you’re watching
how fucking gorgeous I look when there's nothing left
but incendiary desire,
all by your undoing,
keeping me satisfied
until I can’t breathe,
romancing your hardness
with every gasp.
~𝓜
Kiss me slowly…
like you mean it
like you’re trying to steal
my breath
and keep it.
the kind of kiss that leaves
my body asking for more.
touch me like
you’re starving,
not soft,
not polite,
until I forget how to stand,
no poetry,
no games,
just “I f**king want you”
like it’s the only truth left,
seduce me slowly…
not because you’re gentle,
but because you know
I like being edged
past my limits,
because I ache for the slow burn before the collapse,
seduce me slowly…
deeply,
back arching,
mind bending…
‘where did you learn that’
kind of touch,
that feels like worship and wreckage at the same time,
like the kiss was just the excuse to get me here.
~𝓜
I hope you miss me.
Not in the loud ways people talk about.
Not in drunk midnight texts,
Or songs you skip too fast.
I hope it’s quieter than that.
I hope it’s in the small moments.
When the world slows down just enough,
For memory to slip through the cracks.
When he laughs,
But it doesn’t sound quite right.
When you tell a story,
And halfway through it.
You remember I was the one who lived it with you.
I hope you miss me.
When the sun sets in that soft gold way.
The kind that used to make you reach for my hand,
Without thinking.
I hope you notice,
That he doesn’t know the way you take your coffee.
Or how silence sometimes means,
You just needed someone to stay.
You let me go for someone else,
Like love was clothes you outgrew.
Something easy to trade in,
For a different color.
But I wore you like skin.
And I know,
Maybe he makes you happier.
Maybe he gives you everything,
I tried so hard to be.
Life does that sometimes.
Still.
I hope one day,
In some quiet corner of your life.
When the world finally stops rushing you forward.
You remember me.
And for just a second,
Your heart aches a little.
Because, you realize.
I never stopped choosing you,
Even when you stopped choosing me.
To love someone endlessly means you don’t measure your affection in conditions or limits. You don’t love them only when they’re perfect, or when you’re comfortable, or when everything is going your way. You love them through growth, through change,through the seasons of becoming.
I want you.
Not in some distant, poetic way—
but here, close enough to feel the warmth of your skin beneath my hands.
I want your mouth—
the slow curve of your smile before a kiss,
the way your breath mingles with mine
in that suspended moment just before our lips meet.
I want your skin—
the quiet heat of it beneath my fingertips,
the way it seems to remember every place
I linger a second too long.
I want your eyes—
those deep, dark eyes
that hold me still every time they settle on mine,
like they know exactly what they’re doing to me.
I want all of it.
The closeness.
The warmth.
The slow pull between us
that grows stronger the longer we stand here.
Because when you’re this near,
wanting you isn’t a thought anymore.
It’s a gravity
I have no desire
to escape.
there are people you enjoy talking
to, and then there is the rare
person whose presence quietly
rearranges entire stretches of your
life. years later they mention a film
you once watched together and it
suddenly becomes your favourite.