Wanting

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I want it. Almost like I want it to live, no not need because I know deep down I can live without it.
I want long talks and passionate kisses. The huge gestures under moonlight, or on a bed of roses, or lit by a lantern filled sky.
I want the pain too, all that comes with it. Arguing till out hearts bleed and caring till our tears fall. Because if it hurts, it is real.
I don't care how we meet or who he'll be. That worries me.
I need to care and need to not want this, to just be me.
I don't need moments that slow down time with electricity or need to rely on eyes that see me and only me. I don't need this these stupid things at age 15.
I know I am not ready. God knows I am not. That I couldn't handle it. That I would ruin it. I trust that. I trust Him.
Though I still want it, crave it.
To be able to spark a fire with one touch
To run my hands through his hair
To know that we are eachothers and nobody's elses.
To have him hold me so tight, that I could forget that I'm not ready or that I created something artificial like a writer with a broken pen.
But here I am still wanting.
Wanting to give my all, My heart and to receive another's.
I want to be ready to fall so bad that I forgot I never jumped in the first place.




Inspiration: Loneliness

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