(no subject)
I am so complete it is ridiculous…
committed to this amazing writer who has the wit and humor that has no end…
we make love every day and everyfuckingday is amazing--I still find my mind and body crawling at every end for more.
he drawls me in so easily and takes my sharp tongue to no extremes, instead plays them into a joke and I find myself laughing in utter defeat.
he makes me hungry for more life then I have ever witnessed from another and our plans never cease to stop or quit to amaze me.
I am so in love it has devoured me into showing my true self; something I value from showing any one else… something he lets me relies I am doing then agrees when I finally confess.
he is my world and I am his, he sleeps beside me and I crawl into his arms… my lack of sleep and insomnia interweaves even though it is nothing of conventional; I chain smoke and drink vodka as he lays holding me tight at night. He accepts me for who I am right down to the bare bone, my naked body screams of utter devotion and I will give nothing but.
Has the world who lies in shatter pieces ever experienced such hope and happiness? I doubt it.
Good luck to finding a love like mine;
“they’ll name a city after us; then later say it’s all our faults and then they’ll give us a talking to, a talking to, they have got years of experience… “
committed to this amazing writer who has the wit and humor that has no end…
we make love every day and everyfuckingday is amazing--I still find my mind and body crawling at every end for more.
he drawls me in so easily and takes my sharp tongue to no extremes, instead plays them into a joke and I find myself laughing in utter defeat.
he makes me hungry for more life then I have ever witnessed from another and our plans never cease to stop or quit to amaze me.
I am so in love it has devoured me into showing my true self; something I value from showing any one else… something he lets me relies I am doing then agrees when I finally confess.
he is my world and I am his, he sleeps beside me and I crawl into his arms… my lack of sleep and insomnia interweaves even though it is nothing of conventional; I chain smoke and drink vodka as he lays holding me tight at night. He accepts me for who I am right down to the bare bone, my naked body screams of utter devotion and I will give nothing but.
Has the world who lies in shatter pieces ever experienced such hope and happiness? I doubt it.
Good luck to finding a love like mine;
“they’ll name a city after us; then later say it’s all our faults and then they’ll give us a talking to, a talking to, they have got years of experience… “