"

Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.

"

Some things are better left unsaid

(Source: poppyflowerpoetry, via shesecstatic)

"Drunk text me. Text me when the music is loud and there are girls dancing around you and you’re not quite coherent and you’re not quite yourself. Drunk text me that you love me or that you miss me or that I’m on your mind. Let the alcohol tell me all the things you won’t say sober"

+ Load More Posts