Have you ever felt a potential love for someone?
Like, you don’t actually love them and you know you don’t, but you know you could. You realise that you could easily fall in love with them. It’s almost like the bud of a flower, ready to blossom but it’s just not quite there yet. And you like them a lot, you really do. You think about them often, but you don’t love them. You could, though. You know you could.
you know that quiet girl in class?
yeah she goes home and makes fun of you all on tumblr
okay. This is the funniest thing I’ve seen about thanksgiving.
I see you. Liking my posts. Reblogging them.
its been 12 years since shrek came out and im still having trouble coping with the fact that donkey fucked a dragon
and found traces of you
in every single line.
your hair, the two mountain peaks
of your upper lip,
God, those fucking cheekbones.
where did you come from?
how did you get all over my hands?
I’m drinking through my verses
trying to write something
that doesn’t sound like
“I didn’t mean to make you a habit”
but it’s all the same, really.
I turn the page upside down
and can still read the words perfectly.
I should take up smoking.
I hear it’s calming and, most likely, fatal.
I’ve written so many poems, and none of them
are even mine.