There's a certain beauty that comes from being held. It's a weird sense of security and safety and of being loved. It's something that one who has not felt it does not understand, and one who has always craves. It's a form of perfection when it's with someone you love. It's generally romantic, occasionally sexual, and always just so god damn nice.
A poem of sorts, October 2015. Obviously all is based on consent, without it, this thought is irrelevant ;)
YOU ARE READING
These Scribbled Notes
RandomA collection of everything, from poems I've written for class, to song lyrics scribbled on napkins in tiny cafes. There is no sense or link between chapters; it's purely an archive of my imagination. cover by: @kandyjonesxx
