#spilled guts

LIVE

I think of you at every sunset-

Watching the oranges, yellows,

Purples and pinks.

But that’s the problem-

I’m thinking

Of you.

And I’m thinking

Of you-

Until it’s sunrise.


-b.m.

I know I shouldn’t do it.

I should leave you alone.

But damn it’s so hard

Not to pick up the phone-

Tap on your contact,

Hit “new message”..

And ask how you’re doing.

But I shouldn’t.

I know I shouldn’t do it.


-b.m.

I see your profile pop up as “active”,

And I almost message you.

It takes everything in me

Not to check in,

Not to ask you how you’re doing..

Not to tell you how sorry I am.

I’m sorry I took us both through

Such an emotional turmoil,

And I’m sorry I hurt you

Just as badly-

If not more-

Than I hurt myself.

I’m sorry I still think of you,

Even though you’re not mine

To think about anymore.

I’m sorry I still crave our connection,

Our laughs,

Our all-night conversations.

I’m sorry-

I just miss you,

And it’s all my fault.


-b.m.

My favorite view is you,

From the passenger seat.

Your cheeks flushed

From the cold.

One hand on the wheel,

The other hand in mine.

Sometimes we laugh

Until tears stream down.

Other times we sit

In a comfortable silence,

The road leading the way.


-b.m.

I saw this coming.

I knew it wouldn’t last-

It was too easy, too perfect, too raw and real.

I saw this coming,

But damn, it hurts like hell.


-b.m.

You’re back again,

Begging me to come back

To you-

For the third time.

They say the third time

Is the last time,

The charm, even.

But is that true

When it comes

To me and you?


-b.m.

3,568 miles-

That is the distance between you and I.

Every mile,

Every inch,

Every little space between us

Hurts my fucking heart.

I would do anything just to see you again.


-b.m.

I keep thinking, fantasizing

About you-

Being back beside you,

Sitting in the passenger seat

Admiring the view of snow capped mountains,

But overall enjoying the view of you.


-b.m.

Soft whispers,

Your words as smooth

As your hands caressing my body.

I feel your breath

Hot against my skin,

Igniting my deepest desires.


-b.m.

tabletop-romance:The strange thing about roadkill is that it’s so hard not to look.

tabletop-romance:

The strange thing about roadkill is that it’s so hard not to look.


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zachariiee: again! again, again again again again again again again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

zachariiee:

again! again, again again again again again again again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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