Blank paper? Those flaws and insecurities, those heavy life worries, shared aspirations and dreams, your speckled tears on my pillow at 4am still run in my blood. Knowledge comes in that there are forever elements of you that will always be carried as part my own self, incorporated, transfused, and remain mine only. Waiting on train station windowsills swinging my feet in October breeze, I’m still sat there.

Head on my pillow falling, I retrace the cupboards in your kitchen, trinkets on staircase shelves, toys above your wardrobe. Tandems, perfectly cooked steak, drifting deep breathing and little bites on noses. Irreplicable but cherished. I’m sure she’ll be lovely, and I’ll know I’d wished for nothing more than your happiness.

Of all the things I couldn’t give you, you deserve her.


im in one of those ‘cuddle up with someone and watch a lame movie while i kiss their neck and casually take off their pants’ mood

(via accioramen)


And perhaps you’re fascinated
by the contours of my cheeks
with skin like bedsheets that
hide all of the complexities of what’s underneath
and present an image of simplicity
that is easier to digest than skipping heart beats for hairy legs.

And I wonder if
these next six nights
of not having to feel
so alone will make you
wondrous in keeping me
as a bed side table,
to place your hard times on
before you get the forty winks
your eyes need
to glisten in the midday light of my

And it’s hard to
fall back into sleep
when I’ve fallen in love
with studying the one that lies next to me,
and I wonder if you’ve found landscapes in my
elbows like I’ve found
ebbing tides in your forehead.

Perhaps your love for me is fleeting,
and you’ll have moments where you
consider tearing yourself even further apart,
but as soon as it’s possible
you close your eyes again and
fall out of the thought
and back into sleep.

But perhaps you’ll keep me as a bed side table:
to place your brain things in my cupboards,
to place your step dad in my cupboards,
to place your sad eyes in my drawers,
to put your heart ache in my
mouth, your desire for love in bite marks on my
neck, and your misty breath in my

whispering ‘you are so important to me’.


Bed Side Table, Lucas Regazzi (via 1000scientists)