handwrittenhoney-blog

[handwrittenhoney-blog]

Samantha Young, Before Jamaica Lane (via books-n-quotes)

I laugh harder with you. I feel more myself with you. I trust you with me–the real me. When something goes wrong, or right, or I hear a funny joke, or I see something bizarre, you’re the first person I want to talk to about it.

[handwrittenhoney-blog]

to the guys

they were the guys you wanted to be friends with. they understood what it meant to be just as lost and as crazy as the girls. they knew everything. they guided us. loved us. we loved them. we would all share stories of old friends and old flames. they'd rightly call you out when your taste in men became questionable. we would sit for hours just sitting and laughing. or just sitting in silence with stephen's playlist fading in and out. they are the guys who don't leave us. us girls, would not have made it without them. although, we never told them. hotboxing trashrooms in the the dorms and just laughing uncontrollably. they were the guys you wanted to know. we learned from them and they learned from us. the guy's who's music would lift you up and kiss you with impressive force under a southern californian twilight. each one could understand you and know nothing else. but, they understood more than they knew and maybe that was enough for us. they were the guys you wanted to love you, even if it is for brief moments of those, wavy memories.

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some dream I had

i looked at him through the tiny window, stared into the eyes of forever, and the gentle curve of his lips said he loved me.

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up there

he was a calm recklessness that dashed across the night sky with an unwavering presence and no plans of stopping until he found me i eventually found him in the night, waiting for me. from then on i believed one day we would go back up there, because we belonged to the sky and our love belonged to the stars

-y.c.

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a.m./p.m.

i watched the sunset and it felt like i was looking into your eyes in the morning

-y.c.

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in the clouds

you were in the clouds the rays cast a spotlight on my immaculate body i was right all along you are heaven and i am divine

-y.c.

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sleep

i don't see you in my dreams.

i see you in nightmares.

-y.c.

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stuck

i try to write a story, but the keys only type your name.

-y.c.

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the drive-ins

i lay in the trunk and thought about you fucking me our bodies tangoing together in the dark illuminated by the stars on the screen and above us shadows waltzed across our bodies no one else except the cars that occasionally cast a spotlight on your pastel face the movie and our moans filled the brisk air i thought about you pulling my hair and making me your own movie for the night -y.c.

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kerosene

kerosene kisses blistered tongues sparkling words he could light my fire with just a match and his burning touch -y.c.

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constellations

i spelled your name in the constellations and the heavens answered. y.c.

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eclipse

she was the sun he was the moon their love was an eclipse that made everyone who watched croon -y.c.

[handwrittenhoney-blog]

Last night I had a dream - in a windowed room I was washed clean by a thousand cut-glass colours. The church was empty, the garden sparse - only a book on a bench remained, wherein a read the story of a dream. When I woke to tell this tale, it seems I had a million stories more.

a fireside song 4/31 (via sketchythiings)

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She was of the mountains. She was used to the slow rise of the hot sun sweeping over the jagged bluffs. The cries of distant predatory birds; alert. The dark grays and greens of the trees, contrasting to the red rock and clay it rooted in. But now she had to reroot. Her branches and leaves had begun to wilt in her native soils. She was caught in emotion in this moment of realization, and the howling winds bellowing up the bluffs blew off her tears, as she headed for new lands. 

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entombed

my face fit perfectly in the depression of his chest, as if we were supposed to be there in that very moment in time, we drifted off to billie holiday enfolding into the other- entombed. -y.c.

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fortune cookies

on some nights we'd stop for japanese because it was my favorite we'd talk over sushi rolls and tempura i'd watch you play with chopsticks laughing at how horrible you were with them but at the end of the night fortune cookies were our favorite you would break yours open and read it to me i did the same we ate our cookies and gave kisses for good luck

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