This is more than I need you.
This is fire, everywhere.
This is my bones bending
at the very thought of you.
This is the way a kiss
from you swept me
off my feet as if I were hit by
a hurricane on the moon.
This is the way your voice is spring––
the reason I bloom.
It’s a powerful moment you know.
the one where you realize at last
this person breathing next to you is
someone worth dying for.
that you are entirely
and terrifyingly theirs.
and that they
may not always be yours."
— Beau Taplin || unbalanced love. (via afadthatlastsforever)
I grab my collar bones
like they’re the safety bar on a roller coaster cart.
I glance in my rear view mirror obsessively.
It turns out letting go of the past
isn’t one of those things that gets easier with age.
I wonder if I’m the only person
who’s nostalgic over things that have never happened.