#romaticism

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I need to stop looking at your eyes like they hold something for me.

unaiza n, as empty as my words

things i regret

not picking my mess up sooner/ not eating my breakfast/ my heart skipping a beat for you/ not listening to what my heart had to say/ working all day/ just to keep my mind from thinking about you/ breaking your heart/ still wishing to lean in your arms/ for you’re the only person/ who wouldn’t let me down/ loving you/ denying it/ your love for me/ mistaking it for nothing/ come home/ i need you.

- unaiza n, the list never ends. put it to an end, will you?

loving you was never pretty, it was a war zone. fighting to love you or to let you go.

- unaiza n,how did i think i’ll get out of this without bleeding?

and i’ve been trying to find excuses to kiss you at the places only the sun has touched.

- unaiza n, selling myself to stars just to spend more time with you.

i was the only thing you didn’t know how to do right.

unaiza n, you were never mine to begin with

If the world will be falling apart, as long as I’d be in your arms, I’d be home.

- unaiza n, home was never four walls and a roof.

fill my heart with song, let me swing for evermore. you are all I long for, all I worship and adore - in other words, please be true. in other words, I love you.

fly me to the moon, let me play up there with those stars, let me see what life is like on a jupiter and mars - in other words, hold my hand.
in other words, darling, kiss me.

If love has never left you gasping for air, ripped you apart and stirred your soul - then you have not experienced love, my darling.

- unaiza n, love isn’t always red

I want to do bad things to you, so wild, so rough that I can’t seem to put them in words.

- unaiza n, until the sun begs us to stop

you’re just a knife twisting in my heart, the burning wounds on my skin. I’ve been trying to write about leaving through the rusted door of this never ending July. but I’m so blinded by the ember sunsets, the hazy lights in your eyes. exquisitely miserable for you – I can’t even move one foot out, or finish the empty verse.

- unaiza n, I can’t leave - I don’t want to.

there are still poems, left undone in the book that we didn’t close right. one of us has to keep writing them - one of us has to keep the words bleeding.

- unaiza n, why couldn’t you be the one to keep us breathing?

but what is love if it doesn’t wreck your soul and haunt you?

- unaiza n, ruin me in the name of love, will you?

I’ve created a small town out of my sadness, and named every empty home after you.

- unaiza n, after you.

but my love, I’ve shed much more than just tears for you.

- unaiza n, blood, sweat and ink

I don’t know the definition of love but I’m sure it falls somewhere between the way you look at me and smile.

- unaiza n, maybe you’re all what love means.

I carry you in between the lines on the palm of my hand. I wash my hands after every touch, hoping that I’d clean you out someday.

unaiza n, but you stay, stay & stay

I ran into the world of my fantasies and never came out of it. how could I? every dream that I weaved about you was better than the real you.

unaiza n, I don’t know who you are anymore.

I don’t know how to write love stories when I’m just a villain

unaiza n, bad at love

I’m going to write something so red, so bright; something that makes the stars cease to exist, turns butterflies into dust. I’m going to write you.

- unaiza n, one smile from you and I’m an ocean overflowing with words.

I hope I accidentally didn’t leave myself in between the cheap metaphors and empty words of your poems. I hope I don’t linger in between those closing lines. – I always want to be something you lost.

– unaiza n, a story you’ll write an ending to.

“The world isn’t cold, darling. The cold resides inside my bones. Hold me for a little longer, will you?”

– unaiza n, excerpt from a book that I may be writing

Should I step back and pretend that I don’t feel the same?

unaiza n. // I love you so fucking much

There’s an appetite for light,

there are love songs,

lilac gardens, bed of lilies,

warm coffee, stack of books,

honey dripping.

There’s slow dancing,

the moon, the stars, rain,

and then there’s you

andmy hands that will

never stop reaching out for you.

- unaiza n. // my heart is pouring out of my hands

“Is there something you desperately wish you could be?”

“Yes, yours.”

unaiza n. // if I were yours.

I’m all out of words, smile at me again.

unaiza n. // being a writer is nothing but looking at you & creating an eternity of words.

October : Dark Academia

  • annotating your copy of Dracula with a spectacle resting at the bridge of your nose while the fairy like knots of your auburn hair flutters in the chilly autumn breeze.
  • crushing the wilted leaves on the pavements under your doc martens as the crunch of it awakens vintage polaroid pictures, dates, memories and a surge of nostalgia washes over you.
  • playing with your old gold coin pendant that rests so delicately over the warm fabric of your favourite black turtleneck while you read Sylvia Plath.
  • scribbling your incoherent thoughts in the flushed yellow pages of your journal tainted with coffee rings while the aroma of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air from the neighbourhood french bakery.
  • relishing in the smell of petrichor when occasional showers of rain find its way to make the days even better.
  • Reading literature to satisfy the curiosity of your ghost-filled heart, under the light of a twisted candle carving a halo on the face with a deep scarlet tinged lips who, eons ago had become one with the earth for hiding secrets in their hearts and potions.
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