Impossible to sleep, impossible to stay awake, impossible to endure life, or, more exactly, the course of life.

Franz Kafka, Diaries of Franz Kafka

Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena.

No better mattress than your chest,

No better music than your words,

No better perfume than your smell,

No better linen than your skin,

No better drug than your love.

Me

It must feel so good to love and be loved by someone.

I think I've forgotten what it's like to be in love.

We could be in love for a billion life times, but I would still look at you as if for the first time.

Do you know when you're a clean freak? And no matter how thick the dust settles on everything but you still don't want to get up and clean it , though that dust is killing you? Yes I feel exactly like that.

The impending dust of doom settles heavily after the light breeze of golden shimmers set off, on the heavenly mattress of my skin, and the bliss once attained is finally lost, again leaving me in the dark heave of the mess of all things. Still I search to find the lost sparkle again but alas, the spring is gone, the flowers will not unfold again. But as it is the ever known - you need to gulp it down with all your strength - who cares if it's water or burning whiskey, you must quench your thirst and keep going.

Me

I will want you and only you till the end of our lives.....

I want to throw you against a wall, wrap your legs around my waist and kiss you. Kiss you until we have to stop to catch our breaths. I want you and only you. I want to take you on road trips that lead us to pulling over on the side of the road because we can’t keep our hands off each other. I want you and your flaws. I want your messy makeup from teary eyes as I hold you and talk to you about life. I want the 3am phone calls because you can’t sleep at night. I want to be yours and only yours. I want to taste all your cooking, even if it’s not good, even if it’s experimenting I’d have you cook every meal for the rest of my life. I want you. I want my trembling hands to grab your waist and dance with you in the middle of an empty room. I want to struggle on days when I can’t see you. I want to fight about meaningless stuff that will lead to meaningful sex. I want you. I want your hand to rest on my forearm as we enter a party, so I can reassure you that you are safe with me. I want to sing to you in the shower and have you shut me up with kisses because we both know I’m no singer. I want the ups and downs, the winter and summer days. I want you and only you

"A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness."

Robert Frost

Love has its cruel ways to say thank you that can put you in a good smile as well as put you in your death bed. It's sad and cruel, you'll love it but it'll hurt. ♥️

the intimacy of simple & kind gestures that you deserve but nobody has ever done them for you and then one random day, when you least expect it someone does them for you in the most simplest way possible and then you're left questioning reality and destiny, "what did i ever do to deserve that?"

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you, I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you.....

Do you ever just crave your man? Not sex but his scent , his vibe , his company? Or maybe his shoulders or just his eyes???

How do you go back to being strangers with someone who has seen your soul?

Sometimes absence is required, to feel a person's presence more intensely.

-Unknown