To Love.

To love. Is to give yourself away.

To trust is to invest in the unknown.

To love is to trust.

To trust is to walk on the streets of love.


We all carry burdens. But we know not how to share. 

So we walk with hunched backs around masked streets.

We all carry burdens.

But we know not how to share.

And so those few moments in which we realize we do not have to hold our mouths.

We take off our clothes.

And stare at our naked bodies.

Negotiating our scars.

But we know not how to heal.

So we wear our clothes and go back to the masks of our homes.


To love is to depend.

To love is find a mind reader.


To trust is to let you take off my clothes.

To love. Is to stand naked.

To love is wear your clothes home.

Happy Early Valentine's. x

(Clothes somewhat refers to masks/burdens)

Melting Candles

I like the smell of liquor on your skin.

The playfulness of inebriation on our tired minds.

It was one of those days our hands felt like sweet-scenting melting candles

Our lips like cigarettes and sweet liquor.

Our love was this plethora of emotions.

A sickening mix of brown eyed blushes and ruffled short skirts.

Impromptu kisses over textbooks and blushing actions under tables.

Our love was grey feet from running in the euphoria of unspoken kind words.

We were drunk on nostalgia.

My heart hadn't beat so fast before.

With this longing glistening in your eyes.

We crashed.

Like two unwilling robots.

Programmed to run in the other direction.

We crashed.

My lips meeting yours first.

 Holding on to your breath like a source of life.

We crashed.

Your hand pulling on my skirt.

This sweet uncontrollable desire.

Like liquor and melting candles.

I like the taste of liquor on your lips.

The playfulness of inebriation on our tired minds.