hundred & thirty-three

Wipe tears I didn’t even know were falling and kiss another 2am goodnight; I swear one of these nights I’ll sleep without hugging the phone, memorizing words you already forgot you wrote. 

hundred & thirty-two

The what ifs will exhaust you. The untruths will bind you. And the realizations will leave you shattered. Why even try, girl, why even try.

hundred & thirty-one

For three hours a night, you’re mine. The world is silenced with sleep, but we’re wide awake sharing intimacies in the secrecy of the dark. Truly I know that what we reveal under this cloak of night is just for us two. I have to admit, though, I didn’t realize how shitty that was until I realized how shitty you were.  

hundred & thirty

She probably reaches for you as you return to your side of the bed. She probably rests her head cozily on your chest. Automatically, I bet your arm hugs her; I bet your hand rubs her back. Hell, you might even kiss the top of her head. She probably readjusts a little, smiles innocently and moves in closer. I just hope as you pull her in and text me goodnight, you fall asleep hating yourself in a way you know I won’t. 

hundred & twenty-nine

Midnight has become our goodmorning and 4am has become our goodnight. What daylight lacks in fantasy, dusk makes up for in secrecy. 

hundred & twenty-eight

I sipped on poison and thought it must be an acquired taste. I was dead before I realized it wasn’t love.

hundred & twenty-seven

You’re gonna get what you pay for, so it’s time we change our currency. It’s time we invest in our futures and it’s time we value our dollars. If we keep throwing pennies into the hands of the greedy, we’ll be left with nothing and they’ll be left with everything. It’s important to recognize when their fortunate becomes our poverty. Promise me that before you take care of the world, you take care of yourself. 

hundred & twenty-six

Our fairytale turned into a ghost story the moment I realized my favorite nights, were your favorite lies.

hundred & twenty-five

I fall asleep to goodnight texts, and she wakes up to goodmorning kisses. There’s tragedy in this story but I’m not sure where.

hundred & twenty-four

If I could spin her words into stars. I would stare up at them every single night. There's gotta be some kind of magic in the tales she's whispered to you, as she's the one you've chosen to lay next to every night, and I'm just the one you think about.