mibella-amore

 she wore a smile. the sun blew red droplets into her hair. a beam of light shown off of her. She was the epiphany of love. calmness rolled off of her in waves. Beauty captured her face. She was heavenly and wise. She was the one who got away. She walked. You stared. Your face scowed in unfamiliar acknowledgment. How long had it been? Five, Six years? She look stunning. It was midday and you was on your lunch break. Some stupid ass job to go along with your stupid ass life. She wore a playful sun dress white cotton innocent. Her hair was longing then you remembered. It hung down in loose curls to her lower back. She final

f State of Pleasure. "Your right, but who would it hurt if we kiss? God, I wanted to kiss you for so long." I looked at her and let a shy smile creep onto my face. "Could we, you know, maybe do that?" "I couldn't stop. It wouldn't be enough…for me." "Common, we can handle this. I mean it's just a kiss right?" I watched her nose crease as she begun to laugh nervously. I have never seen her nervous, I have never looked past her Kalmey's' exterior. She rose from the couch, "Okay, I'm getting too excited here. We need to stop." I watched her walk in front of me, heading toward the door. Two months of hidden desire raced through my blood

two little girls. 1. No one ever sees the scars, the ones inside only visible when you look closely enough. The only way to escape these scars is to document them onto paper. With the words I intertwine pieces of myself, and a little bit of other people. I lace in lies, love, trust, hate, and in the end it is hard to tell if this is really letting me escape these scars or if they are pulling me in closer. They tell about events of love, relapse, hope, anger, helplessness, recovery, and damage. The documents weep like a small negated child wanting to be touched. They are so precisely accurate that anyone who reads them would know every emot