"a god? i wasn't sure if you could call him that. he was way out of heaven's league. no sky compared to the way his fingers wrote novels in the strands of my hair, or the way his teeth held on to my bottom lip as if it were his last hope to survive. and those eyes... those damn eyes that described the calmest storms and sweetest hurricanes. his mind was a sin hard not to drown in, but i didn't care – i was already burning in hell anyway. i never thought a paradise so sweet could take place in an abyss so cruel, but somehow he was there, his ethereal face resting on my chest, his hair tangled up in my fingers, his lips dancing absentmindedly in his sleep. and in that moment i realized; i truly did have the whole world in my hands."
YOU ARE READING
as quiet as a fire
Poetryyou have my heart and mind in your hands now. i hope you have a safe trip. but read at your own risk, i can't promise you'll come out alive.
