Serenawanderlust - Unti

when the lovers lose love,

and it does happen-

it’ll be slow.

he will stop doing the little things,

she will stop caring as much.

she will convince herself that she’s fighting for herself,

and soon realize she has been fighting for him.

when the lovers lose love,

the people around them will be confused.

“you seemed so happy”

“what happened?”

“are you okay?”

when the lovers lose love,

she will cry herself to sleep.

she will second guess her decisions.

she will continue down the path of losing herself completely.

when the lovers lose love,

he will make excuses for the things he did,

he will sit alone and try to figure out a plan to grab her attention,

he’ll think of how it use to be.

when the lovers lose love,

it is sad.

but it gets better.

when the lovers lose love,

and it does happen-

it’ll be slow.

“Don’t let them cut away your thorns in order to deem you a better rose.”

— heartlines-and-stanzas (via wnq-writers)

Somewhere between obsession and destruction, I exist.

- Wit, Oathbringer

“Many things interested her, and nothing satisfied her entirely.”

— Ivan Turgenev, Fathers and Sons (via books-n-quotes)

Still.

I miss you so much in this moment. My skin comes alive with chills. My eyes, with tears. My heart with a dull, familiar ache.

I wish you could hear me. I wish you could sense how much I need you. I wish you could see who I am. I wish you would come back to me again.

How could you just let me go And live on without a word or a thought?

How could you just walk away Without a wonder or a regret?

How am I supposed to forget you When your body brought me to life? Even though you almost extinguished the fire in my soul.

Your neck. Your back. Your arms. Your hands.

Your fingers.

Your chest. Your stomach. Your hips.

Your thighs. Your calves. Your feet. Your toes.

The heat between your legs.

Your hair. Your ears.

Your eyes. Those eyes.

Your lips. Your nose.

Your voice. Your breath.

Your kisses.

Your smile. Your laughter.

I miss all of you. I remember all of you. Every precious inch of you.

I remember the way you felt inside of me. I remember the way your body moved, Always with intention; Always in control. Steady. Strong.

I remember the weight of your silhouette And your hips between my legs While you leaned down to kiss me And I curled my fingers in your hair, Wrapped my thighs around your waist.

I let myself dissolve into your rhythm. I let you lose yourself inside of me.

I remember catching your groans in my throat, The play of your tongue.

I remember how it felt To inhale your breath. It was sweeter than any air. It was pure energy. It fed me.

I remember your whispers. Your questions. Your instructions. Your revelations. “Yes.”

I begged you “Please.” Always. “More.”

I called out to God. I moaned your praises.

You are etched into my mind.

You are traced into my soul.

You are bringing me to my knees. Without a word, without a glance, without a breath.

I’m shackled by a memory. A ghost.

Grief

I walk ahead silently;

I can hear my shoes;

Clicking as they reach the ground.

Click clack,

Click clack.

I suppose I should be crying

I swear to you I'm trying

But my eyes are fully dry.

There's too much inside of me

But not enough to come out.

“She didn’t need to be saved. She needed to be found and appreciated for exactly who she was.”

— j. iron word