though only once and it won’t
last: I want this.
I want this.
Margaret Atwood (via saintofsass)
The first time I see you, we’re at some douchebags lethargic frat party.
I spot you across the room;
blue veins, dark hair, yellow raincoat.
You are clearly ill,
thinking nobody has figured you out yet
but the whiskey in your lungs and the fire in your veins,
they give you away.
I sit next to you on the sofa
I want to taste you,
I do not care that you are poison.’
You look at me sadly,
and suddenly I realize,
they are moons!
Yes, you heard me! Moons!
My heart begins to leak gasoline
as I kiss you hard,
indulging in your licorice sickness.
I love you madly.
But I do not even know your name.
Abbie Nielsen, Madly In Love With Sick Boys With Moons In Their Eyes (viapassionandcoffeestains)