secret series

You left your ghost between my sheets
Your smile in all of my notebooks
And the way you look at her in my mirror
So all I see is the fact that
You don’t love me the way I love you
You are the sting of the first ray of sunlight at the break of dawn
So bright it almost blinds me,
Makes me forget that I should probably just
Be moving on
My fingers hover over the call button
They wish you back just as much as I do
And everything reminds me of you
I’ve washed my sheets so many times
But it never manages to get rid of you
You, good, soft, warm-
All synonyms that I can’t get off my tongue
But I know the more time I spend away from you
The stronger I get
So I put down the phone
But after you, I have to wonder
Would I even know what to do
With someone who
Could love me back for real?
—  I miss my friends with benefits. I cut our ties after he started dating someone, but it made me realize how I really felt for him, even though I know it’s probably best this way.
Sometimes I think I’ve overcome most of my bad habits, but then I find myself lying alone in bed at 3am screaming your name and wishing you would love me again.

It doesn’t feel like a crush. When we hug it feels so right, when we lock eyes across the room and smile, it feels like a secret only we know but he’s not over her. We’d be so good together.

thesoulpages || ((c.n.p))

maybe it’s because
the first time I kissed you we were at a sleepover and we were surrounded by friends and I tasted the entire universe in the way your lips pressed against mine and you pulled away and said ‘that felt weird’.

maybe it’s because
you haven’t changed the way you look at me since then but I can’t stop my eyes from drowning in the oceans behind yours and you know that I’ve never been a strong swimmer.

maybe it’s because
I stopped going to Sunday church so I wouldn’t bump into you singing hymns to a religion you don’t really believe in, I’ve never been good at lying to myself like you were.

maybe it’s because
we were 7 when you taught me how to tie my shoelaces into a butterfly knot but you never taught me how to untie the knots my stomach forms whenever your hand grazes mine.

maybe it’s because
I go through my days with my body dragging behind yours like my heart somehow chained itself to your touch and you pull and tug at my heartstrings whenever you smile my direction.

maybe it’s because
we’ve been best friends for 6 years and I can never kiss you again because you would never feel half of what I felt at the contact of your lips.

—  Confession: “I kissed my best friend at a sleepover, time passed and I fell for her, but I can’t bring myself to kiss her again.” // by rb

they always say:
“fall in love with a writer”
and people imagine this whole other world
of intricate labyrinths
and armies of malicious letters
guarding the doors
of one’s unmappable mind.

no one ever mentions
how easy it would be to dive
into the dark ocean of your eyes
without worrying
about height or parachutes or life vests
how I could spend lifetimes
tracing constellations of the freckles on your face
as if they were enough
to guide me on a starry night
back home
how you are that kind of fire
I would recklessly burn my fingers with
again and again
denying everything I have ever been told
for a glimmering drop of your light
because you are the mere depiction
of my survival instinct.

if I asked the ocean to have mercy
and time to stop
would you meet me in the middle?

—  “He’s a writer and I am his muse. He’s hard to love but it’s easy for me to love him.” // luana gavan