Posted in Thoughts

This is not a confession

But there’s something with the way you look that made my heart flutter

Maybe it’s how the moonlight illuminate your figure
Or your slackened posture as you drive through the night
Could be the outline of your back as you walk away

There’s just something in your crooked smirk
Your sheepish laugh and boyish grin
That tugged the corner of my lips into a shy smile

There’s something electric when our fingers intertwined
A shiver down my spine every time you say my name
And my knees weaken under your gaze

This surely is not a love letter
But maybe you should know
That you got me wrapped around your fingertips




À la mort,

A fool trapped in the illusion they called “love”


An emotionally invested enthusiast of pop culture. Apathetic by design. Aesthetically offensive and eloquently candid. A sentimental heathen.

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