Сегодня я хочу поговорить про здания. Про мою любовь к ним. Каждое здание совершенно разное и передаёт разное настроение. Здание на фото почему-то ассоциируется у меня с учебной и знаниями. Моя старая школа лишь угнетает меня своим видом: она обшарпанная и не внушает доверия😂
#buildings #vsco #love #beautiful #home #house #amazing #vscocam
qotd: what color are your eyes?
- 💌 - "
your mouth feels like a rope swing and my stomach is in knots. your tongue tastes like one-on-one tug-of-war. you let me win, allowing your body to fall into the lips of my howling chest: it is the only way to silence me. your arms claw my back like tree branches and my fingernails dig into your thighs like i am trying to rip through your skin.
you stare at my stomach like scenery, every hair follicle folding into me like grass, every stretch mark like cracks in the sidewalk. i watch you read me like poetry. you never take your eyes off of my skin stained with saliva. it takes me a while to realize you are avoiding looking me in the eyes.
you say, “you’re a stranger,” breaking the silence. you say you don’t know what my palms have touched. you say you don’t know where my feet have walked.
i tell you i am not a stranger. i tell you i am a no one. you look at my chin, eyes flickering like candles in the breeze. you say, “don’t talk like that.” i cut the conversation short. i say that is not what we’re here for. i say i want to be a nobody. you’re real quiet for a second before you agree. “must be nice,“ you say, climbing on top of me.
you go slow, carefully lining my skin with bullets. we moan like gunshots and fuck like soldiers with ptsd, our pasts burning our heart chambers to embers, one by one, person by person. we know this ends in death. we know this ends in letting go. we know this ends in cutting down the rope swing because someday we will learn to be grown.
i think of his smile while you dance like floss between my skin and my bones. sweat lining your tired body like teardrops, i think about the sweat that lines my back when i lay next to him on the pavement. i tell him our hearts would fall over each other too clumsily. that becoming one means one of us gets crushed. that becoming one means losing myself.
i tell him i can give myself love, but i can’t give myself sex. i crawl out of your bed, get dressed and go home. i crawl into my bed and fall asleep with his ghost. "
— i love him, but i am taking you home