He will tell you how beautiful you are, and how he loves the way your lips just beg to be kissed when you aren’t even wearing lipstick. He will remember the story of your childhood you told him at 3AM months ago. He will make promises, and never break them. He will text you back in the middle of the night, because he’s home, and not out getting drunk. He will sacrifice his happiness for yours, and he will treat you how you finally deserve to be treated.

But you won’t accept it, you will continue to question his honesty, you will wonder why it took him an hour longer to reply, you will never expect the good out of a promise. You have been so use to receiving one word responses, and pointless phone conversation, so you don’t really know how to take this. When you two go out, you watch his eyes, not only because they are beautiful, but to make sure they don’t wander to the girl’s walking around.

You will be so fucked up by the past you won’t even be able to enjoy the present, so I’m telling you, don’t let it mess with your happiness. Don’t let the jerk that broke your heart break it again without even being in your life. Because when this guy tells you he loves you, he means it, because every beat in his heart says your name, every breath he breathes, he’s soaking you in. He just wants you, and you want him too. So don’t fuck it up, please don’t.

i.c. // “I’m in a relationship with a great guy who I care so much about, I’m just not happy..” (via delicatepoetry)

please don’t..

(via zu—kurze—jugend)
Posted 8 hours ago with 6,171 notes
Before you even notice, you will have settled. You will enjoy your Monday morning coffee and think it’s just what you needed to start your day. You will visit the library every Tuesday, hoping to find some new escape in a new book, just to get away from your life. You will eat lunch with your best friend every Wednesday, order the usual at your favorite restaurant, you’re satisfied. On Thursday you go for a walk around your neighborhood to clear your mind, and look forward to tomorrow. On Friday evening you think you’ve made it, so you reward yourself with delivery pizza and an alright movie you’ve seen more than six times. Saturday, there’s still a day separating you from Monday, so you’re fine. Sunday, you dread, dread, until you go to bed. Then it’s the same old routine, slowly getting through life, thinking you enjoy it, when you could easily learn to enjoy something else. How do you know what you need to get through the day is just coffee? Maybe it’s just telling yourself, hey, I can do it, there’s more to look forward to. Instead of living your life through books why don’t you go on an adventure and take a risk like your favorite fictional character? How do you know that meal is really your favorite thing at a restaurant when you’ve never let yourself taste something else? Is looking forward to the end of the week your motivation to actually get through life? If it is, why, when you’re just living the same old shit week to week, nothing will change. You won’t change. You think you’re happy, but couldn’t you be happier?
i.c. // don’t settle (via delicatepoetry)
Posted 8 hours ago with 2,140 notes
“Baby,” she says in the softest voice her chest
could find, “please, don’t ever go.” She feels
pathetic in the way she speaks, only he could
make her feel so small, so tiny, so inferior. He’s
the only one that can make her feel so strong yet
so damn weak at the same time, he pushes her
and pulls her, he stitches her seams together so
only his hands have the power to tear them apart.
Sometimes she feels like half a soul when he’s away,
that’s why she always begs for him to stay, please
stay. She doesn’t mind sleeping in the palm of his
hands, she doesn’t mind as long as he never lets
go because then she will wake up to a nightmare.
A life without him isn’t a life she would want to
live, the truth to be told. So she will whisper in his
ear, with a sweet voice and petal soft lips, gently
tickling his skin, as a reminder to not let these
moments go. Don’t let her go, don’t let me go, baby.
i.c. // i’m tied on your string,
don’t cut me loose (via delicatepoetry)
Posted 8 hours ago with 1,115 notes
I am taking this theater class and we've been assigned to read anything out loud to the class and I was wondering if it would be okay if I read one of your poems...?

Yeah for sure, as long as I get credit of course! I think that’s awesome, I’d love to know which one you choose! :)

Posted 10 hours ago with 12 notes


Follow me on twitter! I’m looking for accounts to follow back. ❤️

Posted 11 hours ago with 26 notes
Your poetry is just... Incredible. I read it everyday and it honestly keeps me going. There's moments in my life where I just need something to read to get me through it, and my first thought is to go to your blog. So, thank you and good luck with what your future brings you (:

Wow this means so much to me, I’ve been having a bad day and this made it a little better. Thanks lovely. xo

Posted 14 hours ago with 10 notes
Every word she speaks, I’ve written, and every place she kisses, I’ve left my mark there. I have spilled my love on you and left stains all over your heart, just like I’d leave coffee stains on the table cloth. You’ll see me in her, even in the smallest ways, maybe it’s how her hair is long down her back, and for a moment you’ll see mine dark and wavy. Or maybe it’s the way she stirs her tea in the evening, and the sound of the spoon hitting her mug sounds all too well. It’s in the way she finds out you’re ticklish on the side of your tummy, of course, I was the first to discover that. Yet it isn’t everything she does like me that will make you miss me more, it’s what she doesn’t do. She will gaze over your work, kiss your head, and say good job. When I would sit on your lap and inspect every inch, finding your flaws and perfections between each space. Telling you to fix this, change that, leave this. It’s how the house will feel empty, because the bookshelf doesn’t carry many books anymore. It’s how the smell of my perfume was your favorite, and you’ll realize the cheap shit smells better than the expensive stuff, like I told you. It’s how she dresses up for you at night time, and when you laugh she will take offense to it. ‘Cause when you laughed at me, you were laughing with me, I felt like a fool and looked like one. So I wore just my skin instead, besides, that’s how you liked it. It’s how she laughs at poetry and mocks art that makes you feel misunderstood, almost alone. It’s when you look back and remember how we’d tell each other what we thought each piece meant, and how it touched our hearts that will make you miss me a little more. It’s when you’re laying in bed and she’s next to you, but you remember the times it was me. You will touch her skin and for a moment think it’s me under you, until you open your eyes to be reminded. It will be when you realize you lost not only a lover, but a best friend. You use to tell me to give and receive love is all you wanted, and that’s what you got. Until you realized that love needs friendship too, it needs a laugh when you’re suppose to moan and a whisper when you’re suppose to shut up. It needs being comfortable in silence and learning to love the things you hate. It needs much more than loving something because, but loving something despite. It needs me, as much as I need you.
i.c. // “we were not only lovers, but friends” (via delicatepoetry)
Posted 1 day ago with 1,457 notes

“Your pretty little poetry won’t change a thing.” He said, “I will never love you again.”

Too bad he took a shot and missed because I didn’t write for him, I never wrote for him. I wrote about what he made me feel, not about him. I didn’t truly love him anyway, how could I love someone who never took my words seriously, and someone who told me, “you can’t make a career out of poetry.” Someone who laughed when I called myself a poet, a writer, when I said I bled ink, he rolled his eyes and smirked. The man that I wrote about was the man I only saw in my dreams, he would visit me at night, and it’s a funny thing, I think that’s why I like sleep so much. The only way I could make him come alive was through words and paper. I think that’s where he got confused, he mistook my creative side for something else, he thought HE was him. God, no, at least, I don’t think so. Well, I think I was writing about who I wished he was.

i.c. // I didn’t write for him, anyways (via delicatepoetry)
Posted 1 day ago with 1,139 notes
I am sometimes afraid that maybe, you have fallen
for the idea of me, the thought that lingers in your
mind at 1 AM. I don’t know why, I guess it’s just a fear.
There’s been so many people that have peeled off
my first layer, and ran away because they couldn’t
handle it. Deep down inside I am a dark person, a
person whose flowers never bloom, and always
stay dead, even in spring. I know that you tell me,
you love the way I nuzzle into your neck, and how
I wear red lipstick too much, and when I laugh it’s
genuine. You tell me that you love how I am a light
in your life, and I can’t help but almost shiver when
I think of it. I am not a light, there is no light inside me,
I am nothing but dull and doomed. I just fear that
when you slowly knock down my walls, you will see
the real me. I am not amazing, or perfect, I am sad
deep down inside. I am rotting from the inside out
and my heart is nothing but scarred, and the first
time I have ever felt okay is when I found you.
When I found you there was some hope in me that
you’d be the sun to shine into my soul, to plant
seeds, and water them with love, then I’d grow,
you’d grow. I am just so damn scared, that you
will be scared. I know I am rough around the
edges, and sometimes I cut you, and it’s deep
and it hurts. But I do love you, despite this fear,
despite the chance of you leaving, I love you.
Just please, love me, the real me. Don’t run away,
because even though there are times I think
about leaving, it’s only to save you, but I won’t
leave. I promise, as long as you promise.
i.c. // there is a fear, a fear that you won’t love the real me. mostly because I don’t love the real me. (via delicatepoetry)
Posted 1 day ago with 2,809 notes
I feel like I wanna tell u what I am going threw and my problems but I feel like I would be bothering u with my issues

Aw no, you won’t bother me. I just rather have you tell me off anon or kik me so we can talk privately if you need help or anything. Xo

Posted 1 day ago with 6 notes