This blog is my pensieve. A storage of random, senseless, and/or asthmatic thoughts that my eccentric mind produce.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
On the fourteenth of the second, I made a letter. It wasn't for the guy in the past or any other guy in the present. It was for you, my future love. So buckle up and hear me. :)
This was made while I was gloriously drunk so pardon the shitness.
"You found me in my darkest place. You made me breathe in all the goodness that you breathe out. You made me see the best out of the worst. You don't have to give me all that galactic bullshit that guys are offering to other girls. I don't want the stars, the moon, or even Venus. I just want you. Every little piece of you. I want the way you look past my mask. I want the way you stare into my soul. I want every hidden stories behind your tattoos. Every piece of you may it be broken or whole. I just want you. All of you. No flowers. No chocolates. No promises. No bullshit. No pretense. Just you. I don't want anything else in this world. You're what I want. You're what I need. And you offered yourself to me and I'm grateful and contented now more than ever."