just a lonely lesbian living by the ocean.
i like peach juice and my girlfriend.
You don’t believe me when I tell you that I like the noises you make when you sleep
And I don’t believe you when you tell me that my voice is your favorite sound,
Not when you can sing like that.
One of your ex’s name tastes like stale coffee
And the other one burns as if I’ve swallowed a scalding pot.
You don’t understand why I don’t discuss my first love with you
But how am I supposed to tell the sun that I once fell for the moon?
If I could, I’d pay rent for the spaces between your fingers,
So if anyone else tried to intertwine their hand with yours,
They would be trespassing.
I’m very good at useless metaphors
And very bad at telling people how I feel
But on our worst nights, you’re snow in the month of March
and even though I’m sick of winter,
I will never stop appreciating the beauty of a blizzard.
All About Us, #1 (via whenitmeanteverything)

(Source: attuition, via whenitmeanteverything)

I want your Monday morning
sleep soaked eyes
dream drenched voice,
lazy bones
‘five more minutes please babe.’

I want your Tuesday afternoon
coffee break,
glasses off, laughter on
‘just hold me for a while
it’s been a hard day.’

I want your Wednesday evening
fingers through hair
teeth nibbling nails
neck craning, eye glazing
‘this paperwork never ends’

I want your Thursday night
drinks for two
bones unbind
muscles let loose
flats, slacks,
‘just me and you’

I want your finally Friday
stretch soul smile,
sun sipping light
from the glaciers in your eyes
fingers unfurl, hand extends
‘c’mon babe, lets go wild’

I want your weekend.
your movie marathon Saturday
reading by the fireplace
kissing in the blankets
want your Sunday morning
orange juice and pancakes
white sheets, tender skin
hair like the Fourth of July
‘let’s not get out of bed today.’

I want your ordinary
and your stress, rest, release
I want your bad day and that terrible night
I want you drunk in my arms
forgetting the place but never my name
I want your lazy and your lonely
and your fist full of fight
I want you everyday
in every way
for the rest of my life.

On Both Knees | alfaazkibarsaaat (via alfaazkibarsaaat)

..

(via homos3xuw3ll)

(via thatfatmermaid)

Sober or drunk, it’s always you. (via elsaproblems)

(Source: mistakeswere-made, via breakmeslowly)

jesuschristofficial:

I support gay rights and gay lefts, I support gay ups and downs, basically any direction a gay can go

(Source: jesuschristofficial, via thatblackqueer)

refreshes:

I’m a mess

onekissbeforemidnight:

My head gets so in the clouds and I feel so out of touch with reality when I’m around you. You and I both get so lost in each other. I guess we really feel something we can’t explain. All I can explain is that I can’t get enough of you.

That’s what really scares me.

Falling in love is easy. Having sex is easier. But bumping into someone that can spark your soul - that shit is rare.

You could fuck four, five, all the people in a god damned room and you’d only feel a connection with one. Or none at all.

And what sucks is despite the undeniable real magnetic pull between the two of you, more often than not, you don’t end up together.

I’m afraid I won’t meet anyone else I can connect with.

I’m scared it’ll be just you.

Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) | Connection (via surfandwrite)

(Source: surfandwrite, via thatfatmermaid)