She was the calm, tranquil ocean… or at least on the surface. Below the surface, there was chaos and no one would ever know unless they decided to experience it under the silent waves.
—  E.G. She was not a storm; she was silent chaos.
You are the sound of my
Heartbeat, the taste of
Frosty air in winter. You
Are the satisfying crunch
Of fallen leaves crushed
Beneath reckless feet.
The glow of an
Untouched blanket of
Pure snow, light in the
early morning; or the
Sound of a camera shutter
Capturing a moment
Lost in time.
You’re the spark of
Lighting, unstoppable
Waves in a storm.
You start fires in me
So dangerous but
So inviting. You
Are a hurricane,
But you are a butterfly.
Your wings: soft and gentle.
But you can cause
And earthquake
In the blink of an eye.
I hate love. Not because ‘someone broke my heart when I was 14 and haven’t trusted anyone since’. But because it keeps you up all night thinking; about the past before that person came into your life, about the present and all the moments you are sharing together, and about the future and all the possibilities, even the painful ones. You get tidal waves of nausea when you’re around, or even merely thinking about that person. Your knees weaken and your legs turn to jelly. Fires ignite in your cheeks, turning your face beet red, as if all your stuttering and stammering and awkward stares weren’t enough to embarrass you. You can’t do anything without wanting them around, losing all your concentration. Your heart does that thing where it’s beating so fast that it feels like it’s either not there or has stopped altogether.
I hate love. Not because I got hurt, but because it’s inconvenient.
—  and it always ends in heartbreak anyway
I never liked making
homes out of people,
but some nights with
your arms around me
like walls and your
heart as warm as a
blazing fireplace
I have never felt more
safe so darling,
if this is home -
please tell me
I can stay.
—  Home // Genefe Navilon