Could You Love Me Again
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I wish I could go back to before, when things were quiet, and I was still getting to know the way your lips would move when you spoke. I wish I could go back to standing beside you, stealing glances, and yearning for a way to make you love me. I had your love once I think. Could you love me again?
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A story about the fragility of love between a guarded young woman, and a young man that makes it easy to forget.
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Surviving Love
"I'm not scared of you, I'm scared of history repeating itself" I whispered out. He grabbed my chin to make me look him in the eye, "I didn't hear you". Looking into his eye I repeated "I'm not scared of you, I'm scared of history repeating itself". His gaze was so intense "Peaches I would never hurt you I promise", his gaze slipped from my eyes to my lips as my tongue slips out to moisten my dry lips. His gaze travels back up to me eyes as he closes the distance between us his head dips low close to my face as his lips touch mine. ------------------------------------------------------------------ Mia's life in the past 21 years has been up and down, she is finally ready to break out of her habits and start being her old self. That means leaving everything behind, her family, her life and starting again. However she could never predict what was going to happen next, an arrogant wealthy man, a child and a life she was never expecting. When Mia set off she was looking something, little did she know her life was about to become complicated what happens when her past catches up with her?Complet
ALESSANDRO
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BAD HABITS
'you try to change your ways for the better but you always go back to the worse... to your favorite bad habits' #9 woc 4/22/26 #56 blackreader 1/30/26 #13 aesthetic 4/22/26 #9 modernau 9/29/26 ©notnotae
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Returned
|Re•turn•ed|VERB| |Returned: to come or go back to a place or person| A Love Story
Patience
You gave a muse to me, so strong I lost me loving you... Coming back...slowly...writing what I think and am too afraid to believe or possibly see but am ignoring...no longer. 4/5/18-4/9/19 Thank you Papi, beloved. R.I.H. May 4 (😶)Complet
Her Breaking Point
He had rules for a reason, or thats what he said. I did something wrong I got punished. I spoke out of turn, I got punished. I looked at him or ate without permission, I got punished. Haven thats what they named me funny isn't it? Ironic really. They named me Haven because my mom would say I was her 'Safe Haven'. What a pile of shit that was. She left willingly, she didn't depart because of some tragic accident. My father didn't kill her. She left because she was a coward who didn't want kids. As soon as my older brother went to college she left. I knew she hated me. I was the product of her love with another man. A constant reminder that her life didn't work out the way it was planned. He who ever he was is a phantom in its own. A deep rooted fantasy never going to come true. My brother left, my mother left, my grandma ignored, and my father broke. They let me give up hope on escaping and then decided to play hero. But I haven't forgotten everything I went through. Guilt consumes my brother but I don't care, you don't get to leave and then buy a reprieve of trying to save someone who has been dead for years. Besides lets just be honest I reached my breaking point long ago.Complet
in love with Mr wrong
Our eyes met, and my pulse soared. The world narrowed to a single, thrilling possibility. Each whispered word, every tender touch, pulled me under his spell. I was lost, and I knew it. The hug that changed everything became our sanctuary, our haven. Yet, shadows of doubt crept in, taunting me. Had I transformed the untouchable heartthrob or merely become a stepping stone? The question haunted me, a constant hum in the background of our intoxicating romance. Was our love a work of art or a fleeting masterpiece, destined to fade?"Complet
[mon-a-chop-sis] What am I to this world but a plastic bottle in the ocean? Thrown aside to get lost in the waves. An empty reminder of what once was forever stuck as a shell of what could have been. Maybe I could be something to her. Am I worthy to breathe the very oxygen that fills her lungs? Worthy enough to share my days beneath the sun and under the moonlight by her side? Or am I just a plastic bottle reflecting the sun light long enough to trick foolish eyes that I am a diamond? • Emily & Riley: A queer Story
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