n1mmii

[n1mmii]

you feel like poetry

 it’s 4 am,

it’s just you and me in the entirety of the universe.

everyone else turned into clouds,

now they're falling as rain.

i wake up in your arms,

just how i fell asleep in them.

i feel you breathing,

i feel your heart beat against mine,

i feel you dreaming,

i feel your hair tangled with mine.

you keep me so close,

so close that our souls almost touch each other,

so close that your skin feels like mine,

so close that we might not even be different people,

so close that we might be one.

your voice,

your goddamn voice.

the haze in your voice,

the way you say the words,

the way you carve those words in my soul,

you have no idea about the things your voice does to me.

you’re in your olive green sweater,

i’m unclothed,

but i’m not cold,

you’re all the warmth i need.

i slide on top of you,

you caress my hair,

your fingers tangled with them.

you don't fight them,

you stay there,

tangled, 

with me.

you, feel like poetry.

you’re smiling,

the wrinkle on the corner of your eye,

the soft dimple on the corner of your lips,

you kiss me, 

you taste like cigarettes.

davidoff cigarettes, the ones you like.

i place my hands under your sweater,

i can feel your body.

i close my eyes,

i take it all in,

feel it in my soul,

then carve your scars onto it.

you’re looking at me,

looking at me feel you,

your eyes are partially closed,

but your smile, 

baby your smile’s so big.

you, you feel like poetry.

your hands touch my waist,

go straight up to that deepest point,

they stay there,

mold themselves in me,

decorate themselves around me,

like they belong there,

like they’ve found home,

“please never leave.”

“i want to sing for you” you say,

“i only have one heart, please have mercy on me” i say

 with my hands taking your sweater off.

you sing “sunsetz” by cigarettes after sex

my heart skips a million beats.

my hands tremble,

my soul quivers,

just at the sound of your voice.

your hands are so big,

i would fit just right inside the palm of your hands.

you’d carry me,

you’d take me home,

you’d keep me,

you’d look at me and say that you own me.

it would be an honor,

beautiful beautiful boy,

to be owned by you.

because you,

you feel like poetry.

[n1mmii]

where does one acquire an ornate dagger that they can use to gently tilt up the chin of their enemy so that they are inches away from kissing them… asking for a friend

[n1mmii]

a shout out to all the people who started saying “same” as a joke once in awhile but now use it for the most random things like a car honking their horn at another car

[n1mmii]

"are you okay?" no bitch i'm drinking coffee from a wine glass for drama while reading poetry

[n1mmii]

yes mom i know my hair looks like a mess. it's a metaphor for my life i'm trying to be poetic.

[n1mmii]

you wanna fight huh? okay let's take this outside! the stars are so bright tonight. the moon looks so nice. hold my hand

[n1mmii]

Me flirting: .....damn you sound like a Taylor swift song....!!

[n1mmii]

fuck you, my child is completely fine!

your child romanticises the idea of running far away and completely changing their personality, looks & soul as a way of coping with having no control over their life & being generally dissatisfied with who they have become

[n1mmii]

Every night I tell the stars a story about this lovely person I can't get off my mind - they want to meet you too.

— s. s. (stephenstillwell)

[n1mmii]

what's the use of spring if I can't place lilies in your hair?

unaiza n, I want you. nothing less, nothing more.

[n1mmii]

I surrendered into your intoxication, I let myself drown in your warm touch. I forgot about everything and filled my sanity with your presence.

[n1mmii]

You might not be the first to crawl into my heart, kiss me apart, or share my skin in the dark, but you could be the first one who matters; you could be the first one who lasts.

— Worlds of You: Poetry & Prose by Beau Taplin

[n1mmii]

'I want so desperately to believe that love exists; my heart is a mosaic of hopes—'

'mosaic,' - Megan's Poetry#1167

[n1mmii]

when you know deep down you crave intimacy but tragically the very thought of it disgust you (probably as a defence mechanism for your debilitating fear of rejection and abandonment) so you are condemned to a life of recoiling whenever you catch yourself forming the attachment you secretly seek.

[n1mmii]

oh to lay on top of someone and hug them like a teddy bear and just sleep like that