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heartbrreak · 2 years
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❛ i just can’t be without you. ❜
his hold on her is crushing,    paranoid    —          as if,    were he to loosen it,    she would be taken once more from him.    he holds her securely atop his lap,    an arm tight around her back and a hand cradling her skull.    he cannot help the rapid beating of his heart,    even with her there in his arms,    and he is sure that she can hear it,    can    feel    it,    with her head against his chest.
the weight of his fear traps him,    a lump in his throat threatening to stop his breath altogether.    a childhood memory arises,    a yanking on his small wrist,    a wrong turn,    and his despair grows.    there are things he can take,    things he no longer allows himself the time to think about,    if he can help it,    but    . . .    as intimately as he knows her,    he cannot predict the future,    cannot fathom the execution of what was only a threat to him happening to    her.    there is one thing he can take solace in and one thing he can’t.    just as he was saved,    he saved her,    but not fast enough,    not soon enough to prevent the damage he was spared of.    what    justice    would even begin to suffice for such a crime?
both hands rest upon the sides of her face,    the eyes locked upon hers full of a sort of fury,    a burning behind the grey.          ❝          you never will be.    never again.    i swear it to you.    i will never leave your side.          ❞          there are tears pricking at his eyes,    a feeling rare enough to be uncomfortably unfamiliar.    he tucks her into his chest,    buries his face in her hair.    there wasn’t anything that would be enough to soothe him,    nor her,    but it didn’t mean he would sit back and do nothing at all.         ❝          i’ll make them pay.    i don’t care what it takes.    if i have to,    i’ll    —    . . .    i will make this right,    my love.          ❞
@heartbrreak    .
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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❛ give me your love for being so good. ❜
he grins,    something equally sly and sweet,          an expression rarely done genuinely.    he could be charming,    but it was considered an asset to him,    a part performed for others,    never something done naturally.      how unsurprising he finds it that he should see such things drawn out of him by her,    see the sudden manifestation of things he never thought to be possible for him.    large hands hold tight to her hips,    fingertips padding into soft skin,    keeping her still where she was seated    —    with    him    inside.          ❝          patience is a virtue.    have i not taught you enough,    princess?          ❞
there is some self  -  congratulation to be given for his own strength,    his own control as she surrounds him,    legs splayed on either side of his thighs,    holding him as tightly to herself as he holds her.    aside from the occasional hitch of breath whenever she moved,    the answering sigh whenever she whined,    he considered himself to be doing spectacularly well at keeping himself in check.    still,    his own patience had his    limits,    ones that seemed to be quickly approaching.
he hums with a false absentmindedness,    granting her with a sharp,    sudden rise of his hips against her,    done under the flimsy guise of readjusting his posture beneath her body.           ❝          mm,    yes,    you have been good    . . .    always so    good    for me.          ❞          perhaps that wasn’t exactly the truth,    but he certainly wasn’t keeping track of wins and losses between them.    he would’ve thought he’d have a knack for that,    given his admittedly competitive nature,    but there seemed no point with her,    certainly not in comparison to the excitement of the line blurred between the two.    she kept him on his toes,    kept him as    thrilled    about the loss as the win.    so,    what was the point of a score when both outcomes seemed ultimately a victory for him?
the grip on her hips loosens,    his ever  -  wandering hand coming to rub comfortingly against her thigh,    looking at her pensively,    weighing his options.    he settles on something fast,    curving his hand against the back of her neck and harshly pulling her down to meet his lips.    an arm tight around her waist makes his decision clear before the rest of his body has the chance to follow through.    after all,    he has never been particularly good at denying her,    not for long.    as a part of his endlessly overpowering love for her,    it is only something done when asked for.    and,    being asked for,    he indulges her only enough to work her back up before    . . .
movement ceases,    followed by a particularly,    delightfully cruel blow to accentuate her prolonged denial:          ❝          hah   —    i apologize,    my love,    but i'm not convinced you want it badly enough.    prove it to me,    won’t you?          ❞          he grins again.    there is no direct,    verbal command needed to know what he wants from her.    he wants her to beg.
@heartbrreak    .
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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you can use my skin to bury secrets in and i will settle you down. - hana
and here it is again,          the terrifying intimacy they are so painfully capable of,    are so close to,    but can never be able to fully grasp.    he has gained a tendency to hold too tightly to these moments,    to choke it with his obsession before it can thrive.    still,    he thrives in their brief lifespans,    feasts on its rare resurrection.
his head rests upon her stomach,    lean frame laid between her legs,    long arms clinging to her in his endless desperation to be close to her,    with vulnerability that has only become familiar in her presence.    his eyes close,    face burying itself into the plush of her body.    he feels at a loss of words,    unable to find any words    worthy    of expressing how he felt for her,    how she made him feel.    it was a feeling of safety,    that which he had never known,    a joyful respite between the intense wave of emotion that had trapped him in its grip ever since he had met her.
❝          i would stay like this forever,    if you would let me.          ❞          drowsy eyes rise to look at her,    the goddess he so worshipped.    it is a sentiment often repeated,    but it held a different kind of meaning like this.    how to express it,    that desire for such intimate closeness above only the physical,    when every part of what they had excited him?    he was greedy,    more than ever before with her.    he wanted her all,    her peace and her war,    the thrill of the hunt and the delight of the catch    —    no matter who the victor happened to be.    he knew this to be true and still,    being held like this,    nothing else seemed to compare.
lips press against her and he curses the layer of fabric that separates him from her flesh.    regardless,    he did not dare attempt to rid her of it,    fearing she would misconstrue his intentions.    tonight was not about that.          ❝          i wish to sleep like this.    is that alright?    if it isn’t comfortable,    please tell me.          ❞
@heartbrreak    .
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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the only one i could look at was you. - hana
❝          good.          ❞          a long finger traces the line of her jaw,    a gentle action that turns possessive as he takes hold of her chin.    he keeps his eyes trained on her mouth as he drags his thumb against her bottom lip,    prodding lightly where they part before tilting her head up to look at him.          ❝          forget everyone else who has ever touched you,    ever so much as    looked    at you.    forget everyone but me.          ❞
he kisses her like it’s the first,    sudden and hungry,    but never devoid of the weight of his emotion.    very much unlike the first,    hand slides down her neck,    encircles it with the slightest pressure,    begging her to tense for him,    to hitch her breath under his oppressive touch only for him to release.    a threat performed only to prove her safety with him,    all harshness only existing to accentuate softness,    tenderness.    he holds her in place like this,    lips drawing close to her ear until they are flush against her.          ❝          remember only this,    only me,    how i touch you and how deeply and completely i love you.    i am the only one who will ever touch you like this.          ❞          grip at once ceases,    his palm skidding against her sternum before coming to rest between her breasts.
it is only natural that he should drop to his knees for her,    hand dragging down the length of her body as he does so.    both hands curve around the expanse of her thighs.          ❝          only i can please you like this.          ❞         he begins slow,    lips soft against her flesh,    something that could almost be considered chaste,    if not for the placement.    before long,    tongue and teeth cannot help but join.    he has long since discovered where she is most sensitive,    information that he could never dare to let slip from his mind,    and he exhibits such knowledge without hesitation.    here,    between her thighs,    he can create yet another thing for only the two of them to know.    the marks left upon her skin were for them alone.
just as he is about to give in,    close enough to feel the warmth of her,    he pulls away once again.    there is something else that he knows she wants,    that he is eager to give to her.    he rises,    loosens his tie.    when he pulls it off completely,    he offers it to her.
❝          and remember,    too    —    i am at your mercy.          ❞          there is a brief kiss to her cheek,    and then he is sitting upon the edge of their bed.    he presents his wrists to her,    more than ready to encourage her greed,    the darkest depths of her desires.          ❝          whatever you would like to do with me,    my love    . . .    do not hold back.          ❞
@heartbrreak    .
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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hold on to me…
Ivan’s Childhood (1962), dir. Andrei Tarkovsky
Franz Kafka, The Castle
Untitled, ph. Leon Levinstein, 1950
Jean Anouilh, Antigone
Kaze no naka no mendori (1948), dir. Yasujiro Ozu
Dylan Thomas, “The Map of Love”
illustration by Andy Virgil
Tim Buckley, “Song of the Siren”
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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i wish i could be everything for you. family, home, watchtower, lighthouse. - hana
hand encloses around her soft jaw,          forcing her gaze upon him,    only him.    he would destroy anyone who dare meet those eyes but him.    he demands her assurance,    inside the impenetrable safety of the prison they so willingly called home,    that she is for him    alone.    they cling to each other in enclosed spaces,    swear fealty with frantic voices.    his expression is hard  -  set,    look trained harsh upon her,    as if afraid that she would not believe him.
          ❝          you are.    you are everything to me,    everything for me.    you saved me,    my angel.          ❞
his hand slides down the expanse of her neck,    coming to curve gently around her throat,    a show of the utter possession he commanded,    only with the knowledge that she returned it.    his thumb skids lightly against her pulse,    relishing in the living,    lovely thing that belonged to him.    every rise and full of her chest fills him with another rush of power,    aware once again of the wonder of her and how endlessly fortunate he was to have the privilege of finding himself under her attention.    there was no one who compared to her,    no one so beautiful,    so special,    so perfect.    there was only her.    no other woman in the world mattered.    they did not even exist to him.
grey eyes soften for her,    half  -  lidded in the intoxicating,    heady presence of her.    when he kisses her,    it is slow,    loving,    with just enough urgency to be characteristic of them,    every act a display of both undeniable adoration and inescapable fear.    he pulls away from her only to rest his forehead against hers,    eyes closing as he breathes her in,    utterly devoted to her.          ❝          love,    i would be nothing without you.    i cannot live without you.          ❞
@heartbrreak    .
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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you wonder what i see when i look at you now? a sloppy child. - hana
❝          better than a spoiled brat.          ❞          he does not raise his voice,    keeps himself calm and collected as possible,    posture straight and eyes narrow as he looks down at her.    this is not an unfamiliar fight    —    it is a thing only natural to the push and pull of them,    the ever  -  moving pendulum of their strange love,    of the    control    they exert over each other.    she kicks him like a dog,    just to see if he will run back to her.    he always does.
still,    he is a man unused to being denied.    the memory of punishment is one reserved for the untouched dark at the back of his mind,    a feeling that makes his skin itch when it is recalled.    she pulls it forcibly to light,    in harsh moments like this,    and it  �� burns.    he bites back,    fights against the past more than he could ever deign to truly fight against her.    she is everything to him,    his goddess,    there to worship,    and he will sit in shame and regret when he thinks of how he speaks to her,    completely ignorant of the mutual nature of such cruelty.
long fingers wrap too tightly around the curve of her wrist,    anchoring to him in his harsh grip.          ❝          you told me that you wouldn’t leave me.    why do you insist on betraying me?    after all i have given you?    after i have shown how i adore you?    what    . . .    what more do you need of me?          ❞          mind shifts,    a panic settling in as his brows upturn in worry.          ❝          tell me,    what will make you stay?    i will do anything to have you stay with me.          ❞
@heartbrreak    .
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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[ groom ] - hana
groom    :          your muse adjusting mine’s appearance,    such as straightening a tie,    fixing their hair,    or buttoning their shirt for them,    etc.
he leans into her touch like a cat,          head eagerly tilting towards her hand,    a silent plea for her tender touch.    there are moments like this,    as few and far between as they seem to be,    where they are quiet,    gentle.    the struggle pauses,    and he is happy,    without conditions,    without limitations.    he smiles at her,    barely there and yet so very prominent.    this is how he wants her,    but cannot have her.
his hand takes hers,    brings it to his lips so that he may kiss her palm.    the moment is held so carefully in his hands,    hesitation in every action,    as if he could shatter it like glass if he dare make a wrong move.    he is afraid to speak,    to scare the fragile moment away,    but he cannot help himself.          ❝          i love you.          ❞
@heartbrreak    .
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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Your hands unzip me one breath at a time; there is not room beneath my skin for all of you and I spill over the edges with a sigh. - hana
dig yourself out,    he begs of her.          gut yourself,    make space for me.    make yourself smaller,    if that is what it takes.    he would do the same for her without hesitation.    jumin is not someone who takes vows lightly,    and they have made a promise.    she will give herself to him completely and he will give himself in turn.    there are no conditions to the way he loves her,    the way he demands to have her    —    it is entirely,    with no facet of her that he should not be a part of.    here,    in their bed,    it is no different.
she will have her turn,    of course she will,    but now,    he needs the intoxicating feeling of control,    must have her responding to his every touch just the way he wants her to,    how he knows she will.    with gentle hands,    he lifts her arms above her head,    holding them against the headboard as if demonstrating for her just what to do.           ❝          keep your hands there,    my love.          ❞          it is a command with no substance to it.    should she move,    there is no way he would have the strength to punish her,    not with how far gone he was for her.    as much as he leads,    they both know well that she is the one with the power.    he does this because she    allows    him to.    this is a favor she grants him.
his hands slide down her arms,    one hand lifting to caress her cheek as the other continued its descent to her waist.    he meets her gaze with nothing but adoration.          ❝          eyes on me.          ❞          his voice is low,    deep.    the kiss he gives her is almost chaste,    a last act of innocence before he lowers his mouth to her body.    as always,    he is determined to take his time,    worshiping his goddess just as she deserves.    he is well practiced in the art of his devotion to her,    studying over her every response to his touch until he could please her to mastery.    as in all things,    he demanded perfection.
his hands slide across soft skin,    bared for him,    only him.    the beastly joy of possession takes hold of him once more,    enraptured by his ownership of her.    his mouth follows close behind every touch,    until he finds himself between her thighs,    parted so beautifully for him.    he rose to his knees to admire her,    exposed before him.           ❝          you look so beautiful like this,    my darling,    so perfect.    nothing else will ever compare    . . .    i am the luckiest man in the world.          ❞          he lowers himself once more,    large hands holding soft thighs in place as he marks them with his teeth,    his tongue.    a groan leaves him when he finally tastes her,    and he parts to thank her for allowing him the pleasure.
@heartbrreak    .
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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tell me you belong to me. - hana
his grip on her is bruising,          fingertips digging into the plush of her bare skin,    never able to hold her as closely as he wants her,    as he   needs   her.    the world cannot contain the desire he has for her.    it is all  -  consuming,    as overwhelming and destructive as a natural disaster.    mouth opens against her throat,    teeth that will never dare to bite pressing against sweet flesh.    his words are frenzied,    muffled against the skin he is too afraid to part from.          ❝          i am yours.    i belong to you.    only you.          ❞
the sentiment is accented by a kiss to her neck as crushing as the grasp he has on her waist,    forcing blood vessels to explode beneath her skin and bring a deep red to the surface.    just as she must own him,    he must own her,    branding her with the evidence of his touch,    his mouth.         ❝          i would do anything you asked of me.          ❞        he lifts a hand to cradle the base of her skull,    angling her head towards him.    grey eyes fill with terrifying sincerity as they bore into hers,    his hand pressing harder against her waist.          ❝          i have killed for you.    i’ll do it again.    say the word,    i’ll do it.          ❞         his lips press harshly to hers,    desperate and hungry.    tenderness was difficult to express without a layer of brutality to it.
❝          i love you.    you,    hana.    i could never love anyone else.    i have never loved anyone else.          ❞          the hand at her skull trails down her shoulder,    fingertips skidding against exposed skin down to the marks upon her collarbone,    her breast,    his eyes alight and betraying his attempts to hide his delight.    his fervent gaze landed on her again,    his hand continuing its descent between her thighs.          ❝          i need you.          ❞         he stills,    waits to be granted her divine permission.
@heartbrreak   .
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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FETCH THE BOLT CUTTERS SENTENCE STARTERS    .          lyrics taken from fiona apple’s album    ‘  fetch the bolt cutters.  ‘
every print i left upon the track has led me here.
i hope you love me.
and i know none of this will matter in the long run.
i want you to love me. you.
bang it, bite it, bruise it.
whenever you want to begin, begin.
we don’t have to go back to where we’ve been.
i am the woman who wants you to win.
i’ve been waiting for you to love me.
____ said i had potential.
i didn’t smile, because a smile always seemed rehearsed.
i’m pissed off, funny, and warm.
back then i didn’t know what potential meant.
____ wasn’t gentle and she wasn’t my friend.
she got through to me and i’ll never see her again.
i’m a good man in a storm.
i’ve been thinking about when i was trying to be your friend.
i was just so furious, but i couldn’t show you, ‘cause i know you and i know what you can do, and i don’t want a war with you.
you get sore, even when you win.
you maim when you’re on offense, but you kill when you’re on defense.
i’ve always been too smart for that, but you know what? my heart was not.
i’m ashamed of what it did to me, what i let get done. it stole my fun.
fetch the bolt cutters, i’ve been in here too long.
you seem so nice. i guess you’ve changed.
i listened because i hadn’t found my own voice yet, so all i could hear was the noise that people make when they don’t know shit, but i didn’t know that yet.
i grew up in the shoes they told me i could fill.
shoes that were not made for running up that hill, and i need to run up that hill.
i would beg to disagree, but begging disagrees with me.
i told you i didn’t want to go to this dinner.
kick me under the table all you want. i won’t shut up.
if i don’t wanna go, leave me alone, don’t push me.
you can pout, but don’t you shush me.
evil is a relay sport when the one who’s burned turns to pass the torch.
i resent you for being raised right.
i resent you for never getting any opposition at all.
i resent you for presenting your life like a fucking propaganda brochure.
don’t want to hurt you, but i don’t want to hurt myself even more. i’m sorry.
they don’t know what they are in for, and they don’t care, but i do.
i’ve been used so many times, i’ve learned to use myself in kind.
i, too, used to want him to be proud of me. 
i wonder what lies he’s telling you about me to make sure that we’ll never be friends.
we were cursed the moment that he kissed us.
i grew concerned when i saw him start to covet you.
in my own way, i fell in love with you.
i watch him walk over, talk over you, be mean to you and it makes me feel close to you. it’s not what it’s supposed to do.
when he leaves me, please be my guest to whatever i might’ve left in his kitchen cupboards, in the back of his bathroom cabinets.
there’s a dress in the closet. don’t get rid of it, you’d look good in it.
no love is like any other love, so it would be insane to make a comparison with you.
i spread like strawberries.
i’ve been sucking it in so long that i’m busting at the seams.
people like us get so heavy and so lost sometimes.
we get dragged down, down to the same spot enough times in a row. the bottom begins to feel like the only safe place that you know.
your face ignites a fuse to my patience.
whatever you do is gonna be wrong.
be good to me before you’re gone.
what i’ve become is something i can’t be without your loving.
how do you suppose that we’ve survived?
she’s tired of planting her knees on the cold, hard floor of facts, trying to act like the other girl acts.
you tie everything all pretty in the second act, when you know that it didn’t go exactly like that.
why did you take it all away?
why did you not want to try?
now i understand. you’re a human and you got to lie. you’re a man and you got to get what you want how you want it.
on i go, not toward or away.
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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MABEL.    sentences taken from the podcast,    ‘mabel.’
everything i do, i do it holding you, or the idea of you.
when i look at you in certain angles, it still looks as though you’re burning.
i can see them, the flames of you, blue and black, from the corner of my vision.
you laughed, and i fell in love with you, there.
i am so happy i feel like weeping.
they’ll take you as you are or i’ll burn them all.
even the dark needs things to eat. to love. is there a difference?
we consume what we love.
we feast on its glory and sedate ourselves with its beauty.
there are always rules, it’s true, but here it’s… it’s nothing like what i’m used to.
there is an awful lot of room for luck, for interpretation.
i am feeling uncharitable towards you.
what am i to you, really? what use do you have for me?
i thought the best i could hope for was revenge.
i have not been real, or true, perhaps, even, in the longest time.
you gave me back myself. i will never forget that.
was that your secret?
that was one of them. you want them all?
the hound swallows stars on his tongue.
have you ever seen a moon so red it made your blood look white?
i don’t have to be in your narrative anymore, you or anyone else’s.
you can’t give me anything i need, anything i feel.
things change, you know? they have to change.
you have to learn to swim or else be eaten up by ghosts.
i think you go on forever. i think there is no end to you, like there is no end to god.
at last, she let me touch her.
i’m going into the ground for you.
two girls share a single throne in hell.
would you go back, if you could?
everything is grey without you.
there’s only you. will you finally believe me when i tell you that? there’s only you, only you.
let’s go gut a tyrant.
you wonder what i see when i look at you now? a sloppy child.
yet, i see potential.
do you remember our time together?
do you remember the influence of all else melting away as you looked at me?
you caught in my throat.
the only one i could look at was you.
maybe there was just no one, no one, no one else for me.
i know you’re real, you’re right there — only you aren’t, you’re not even close.
isn’t that funny? i think it’s kind of funny.
what keeps the fires of us burning, if not the stories we tell ourselves?
of all things i missed, i think the sun is the most significant. light and warmth. is it just a poor substitute for you, i wonder?
what you love protects you.
nothing could hurt me. and you know what? after awhile, that isn’t comforting. it’s just stifling.
god, ___, i miss you, it feels like — like a piece of me has been torn out.
there is a feeling growing in the pit of my stomach with every note she sings.
there are ways to mitigate that — offerings to be made, bargains to be negotiated. you know how it is.
i know you the way i know any of my other favorite characters.
it’s not like you’re going to correct me.
i don’t give a shit about polite. i only care about honesty.
someday you will ask me which dessert i want to buy at the bakery and i’ll say all of them.
you have to tell it who’s in charge and make it fear you.
i have thought about why you have done what you have, over and over again, a repeating frenzy of images and words.
you’ll remember, then, that i might have saved you, that i loved you enough to try.
there is something wrong with me.
i think i am the snake in the grass, ___. entropy, come to devour all.
baby. i’ve never called you that, to your waking self.
i wish i could be everything for you. family, home, watchtower, lighthouse.
do what you want to do, but remember the world is dangerous. it’ll chew you up if you don’t pay attention.
have fun, but never, ever let your guard down.
i know what it is to be trapped.
being an object of desire, of love — it still renders you an object.
i am angry at you, for being gone, the way a child might be, but i would never let you be caged.
i only ever want to be with you, in every way. in everything.
i’m not a hero, but i’m not nobody, either.
for you i would change nothing. i would make the same choices over again. i will always choose you.
i talk to you, but you don’t talk back.
we don’t get what we’re due, or what we’re owed, we only get what we get, and we can crumble and cry about it or we can make do. i’ve made do.
i didn’t know what it was like before you, to value someone so outside of myself so intimately.
i think i am feeling distantly sympathetic for you.
have you ever been free in your life?
if you ever saw good in me, it was only reflected from you.
are you trying to invoke me?
i love you. it is a thing undiminished by distance, unaltered by impossibility.
i can’t imagine a version of myself that would not love you.
two words: you promised.
there’s something a little bit romeo and juliet about this, isn’t there?
we will never let anything immolate the entirety of us.
pull a persephone, visit me for a season.
i would miss you. but it’s your choice.
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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literary sexts vol. 1 poetry meme
Literary Sexts is a modern day anthology of short love poems with subtle erotic undertones edited by Amanda Oaks & Caitlyn Siehl. Hovering around 50 contributors & 124 poems, this book reads is like one long & very intense conversation between two lovers. It’s absolutely breathtaking. These are poems that you would text to your lover. Poems that you would slip into a back pocket, suitcase, wallet or purse on the sly. Poems that you would write on slips of paper & stick under your crush’s windshield wiper. Poems that you would write on a Post-it note & leave on the bathroom mirror. Treat yourself, a crush or a lover with this lush gift!
source and amazon buy link.  
I will be providing select short, sometimes edited, poems for a texting/”sexting” meme, but not the whole book itself.  If you enjoy the poems provided, please support the collection whether it’s the first volume or the second.   Or look into the works of the various contributors and see if anything else they’ve written is to your liking!  
Feel free to add to and/or edit these sentences to better suit your needs—but remember, many of these work best in the context of texts and/or love notes instead of spoken dialogue.    —Lizzy.  
Mark me like a passage from your favorite book, then open me there again and again.
My skin is full of flowerbeds and you know every way to make them bloom.
I am tracing the knobs of your spine like the map of my favorite continent. You are all the places I haven’t visited yet and I mark each one off with my teeth.
Your hands unzip me one breath at a time; there is not room beneath my skin for all of you and I spill over the edges with a sigh.
You take apart my heart in pieces with your mouth, but the splash of your tongue against mine feeds it back to me. It tastes sweeter coming from you.
You opened your mouth and spoke the language in my blood.
You kiss me and there aren’t sparks. There’s an entire orchestra in my chest, playing staccato on my heart strings.
My hands are nomads, my dear desert. May they never find rest.
Being small things, we understand this as our humble attempt at thunder, at setting the world to shake.
Delicate work. Like peeling kiwis. My tongue across your skin. Mellow flesh against my lips. Your taste always in my mouth.
How a storms needs to feel the earth how the earth wakes to the pelt of rain how the ground is quenched is how I need you… 
My hands were glaciers I never dared to move freely, my fingers icicles. Your touch thawed me to excavation. I want to dig into your warmth.
Kiss me like white bread, stick to my teeth even after the whiskey. I want memories of your mouth lodged beneath my tongue to wake me at two in the morning, hungry.
I want you next to me, in my bed, your clothes making friends with my floor. Love me hard enough so we wake up the neighbors.
Your hands peeling that onion, thumbs and forefingers pulling skin from skin—they are sacred. Let me kiss them. Let them bless my sinning chest, let them peel my lips apart.
I don’t want to be your harmonies anymore; I want to be the melody you scream when your heart is starving for love. I want to satisfy your hunger.
Show me the parts of you that nobody else ever wanted to sleep with. Show me it all with the lights on.
You, darling, are Vesuvius. I won’t see you coming. Erupt. Wreck me. Leave me ashes leave me Pompeii, leave me outlined into your history forever.
It’s not so much that I want to kiss you. I want to relearn vocabulary words from the shape of your mouth. All my poems are yours first.
Kiss me blossoms in the summer, lover. I want to taste the succulent sweet of your peach tree smile. This time let Adam take the fruit from the garden.
Surge into me as a downpour, as the pounding waterfall which makes swollen rivers flood, as the sea.
The happy ending to this night: you tug my hair and lightly brush your hand across my lap. Don’t forget how resilient I am and how I would bend for you.
Even my lungs are in love as we breathe together.
I don’t just want to take your breath away. I want to rip it from your mouth and keep it locked away between my teeth. You can only have it back if you kiss me again.
The gentle friction of your hand on my thigh is enough to strike a match inside me. I lean into your lips and the fire blooms and spreads.
You are an undiscovered continent. I trail my fingers down your mountainsides. Ten explorers digging for buried treasure, I want to take it all.
My body is a gospel and you are my first quivering hallelujah. Your breath leaves your mouth like a prayer and washes over me like faith.
My hands are hungry for your flesh, desperate in the way that rivers empty themselves over waterfalls.
I peel back your skin to see if we have the same scars. I follow the map of your veins back to your heart and press my palm against yours to tangle our lifelines.
I hope to breathe in you. I hope my body will be the blood your roots drink.
We commit sins in holy places, fold ourselves between pews like dirty pictures tucked into a bible. Pant each other’s names until they sound like scripture.
My tongue collides with your collarbone like a meteor careening across the cosmos, and I taste the stars you are made of.
You kiss me with your mouth wide open like you’re not afraid of swallowing poison. I taste the good and bad in you and want them both. We call this bravery.
You, benevolent god, legs splayed like instruments of creation. I, blank slate of the universe, kneel in wait for you to fill me with your hot, honeyed light.
My hands are suntanned tourists without a map whose desire compels them onward to explore your golden cities by the light of the stars.
The moment between your thighs where I become a devout follower of your existence. That hour which passes in slow seconds of soft skin, as I lay my head against you, drifting, drowsy with love.
Your grin is a flash of primal fire in the dark. Somewhere deep inside me, something hungry wakens and shifts, uncurls its insatiable tongue.
I have been thinking of how I want to be touched by you, with hands that will play me like piano keys, with fingers that will make a symphony out of me.
You till the soil of my need, my lips a blood-red flower bursting open with the first wet flush of your heat.
When it comes right down to it, all that nonsense about hearts syncing up feels like a hallelujah with our bodies pressed together like praying hands.
Every time, you peel back my skin, pry open my ribs, and feast on my insides. Every time, you make a meal of my heart, and every time, I let you.
You’re not one for poetry or sentimentality, so I’ll just say that I’ve dreamt of being the motor oil trapped in the grooves of your weathered hands.
I ache for your hum between my legs, the purring of motorcycles on winding highways: wind in my hair, and romance in losing myself to the sweet, revving vibration of the engine again and again.
You smile and it’s like sunrise. Something inside me Wakes up, stretching.
I float away in cool sheets against my burning skin, and you are the sea guiding me beyond the realm of earthly things.
My lipstick spills over your mouth and trickles down to your chin, your neck, pooling into your collarbones. We love like crushed grapes in wine country.
You’re kissing a wildfire up my thigh and I am tracing the landscape of your jawbone like a sculptor. My hands were made for this.
The rush you give me: The way a blade of grass must feel when splashed with a cloud’s cry after days of screaming for rain.
We are the fall of Rome, all fire and fighting. We collapse into each other like the pieces of the Parthenon, kissing like gladiators, loving like rebuilding.
You creep into my head like a river rushing for the sea & a cosmic digit of fingertips flash over me.
You are pressing against me like I press flowers against the pages in my book. You are kissing my neck and it feels like the start of forever. I want to touch you until my palms burn.
The wet of your mouth rains down my neck like frame, the soft heat of your tongue burns the apple in my throat. We are practiced at this love that asks angels to cover their eyes and turns devils shy.
I melt into the gentleness of your fingertips. Your tongue presses me open like the summer fresh flesh of a perfectly ripe fig, all juice, seeds and pulp.
The small of your back is refuge, is veldt, is summer heat. And I am predatory snarl.
I can’t brush out the taste of you; coffee breath, cigarette smoke, and all. Mouth to mouth; Our shared vices linger on each other. Your salt still lives in my tongue.
I’ll take you quiet as the bones in your closet, love as softly as a whisper. Holding your tongue like a secret.
You smiled and lit up like the dusk. I sank to your lips like the sun against the horizon. We made the day stand still.
I want to kiss you until you melt into me, ice turning to water. I want to drink you deep, and warm you from the inside.
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heartbrreak · 2 years
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WHEN THE PAWN…          lyrics taken from fiona apple’s album    ‘  when the pawn…  ‘
hell don’t know my fury.
you’re all i need.
maybe some faith would do me good.
i can’t decide, there’s too many variations to consider.
baby, lay your head on my lap one more time.
tell me you belong to me.
baby, say that it’s all gonna be alright. i believe that it isn’t.
please forgive me for my distance.
the shame is manifest in my resistance to your love.
i would’ve warned you but, really, what’s the point? caution could but rarely ever helps.
it’s hard enough even trying to be civil to myself.
am i your gal or should i get out of town?
i just need to be reassured.
do you just deal it out or can you deal with all that i lay down?
you wanna lick my wounds, don’t you, baby?
you want the badge of honor when you save my hide.
when i think of it, my fingers turn to fists.
i never did anything to you, man.
no matter what i try, you’ll beat me with your bitter lies.
you feed the beast i have within me.
love ridden, i’ve looked at you.
baby, i wished for you.
i want your warm but it will only make me colder when it’s over. so i can’t tonight, baby.
if i need you, i’ll just use your simple name.
only kisses on the cheek from now on and in a little while we’ll only have to wave.
my hand won’t hold you down no more.
i stood too long in the way of the door and now i’ve giving up on you.
i was staring at the sky, just looking for a star to pray on, or wish on, or something like that.
i was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy.
the dove of hope bean its downward slope and i believed for a moment that my chances were approaching to be grabbed.
hunger hurts, and i want him so bad, oh, it kills.
i know i’m a mess he don’t wanna clean up.
i got to fold ‘cause these hands are too shaky to hold.
hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love.
i went crazy again today.
come on, put a little love here in my void.
i’m gonna make a mistake. i’m gonna do it on purpose. i’m gonna waste my time.
if you wanna make sense, whatcha looking at me for?
i’ve acquired quite a taste for a well-made mistake.
i’m always doing what i think i should.
i don’t know how to live without my hand on his throat.
i fight him always and still.
oh darling, it’s so sweet you think you know how crazy i am.
you say you don’t spook easy, you won’t go, but i know.
fast as you can, baby, run, free yourself of me.
i may be soft in your palm, but i’ll soon grow hungry for a fight and i will not let you win.
my pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will disprove your faith in man.
so, if you catch me trying to find my way into your heart from under your skin, fast as you can, baby, scratch me out, free yourself.
sometimes my mind don’t shake and shift but, most of the time, it does.
i’ll be your girl, if you say it’s a gift and you give me some more of your drugs.
i’ll be your pet, if you just tell me it’s a gift.
i’m tired of whys, choking on whys.
i let the beast in and then i even tried forgiving him, but it’s too soon.
if you’re getting any bright ideas, quiet, dear.
i wouldn’t know what to do with another chance if you gave it to me.
i couldn’t take the embrace of a real romance, it’d race right through me.
i wouldn’t know what to say to a gentle voice, it’d roll right past me.
i’m much better off, the way things are.
as soon as i settle, i bet i’ll be able to move on.
how can i fight, when we’re on the same side? how can i fight beside you?
how many times do i have to say to get away, get gone?
you got your game, made your shot, and you got away with a lot, but i’m not turned on.
i do know what’s good for me.
i’ve done what i could for you.
it’s time the truth was out, that he don’t give a shit about me.
it’s no sacrifice because the price is paid and there’s nothing left to grieve.
i will pretend that i don’t know of your sins until you are ready to confess.
you can use my skin to bury secrets in and i will settle you down.
baby, i can’t help you out while she is still around.
amidst all this bitterness, if you’ll just consider this, even if it don’t make sense all the time, give it time.
when the crowd becomes your burden and you’ve early closed your curtain, i’ll wait by the backstage door.
if it gets too late, for me to wait, for you to find you love me and tell me so, it’s okay, don’t need to say it.
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