I want a girl who gets excited to talk to me. A girl who saves stories throughout the day just to tell them to me later. I want someone who texts me every morning to tell me to have a good day, even if I’ve been up at school for 3 hours already. I just want someone who acts like they care. Because I haven’t been getting much of that lately, and when people ask what’s wrong, I don’t know what to say. “I don’t feel loved?” “I don’t feel like I’m being fought for or given the effort i deserve?” It seems to petty to say out loud. i just want to feel excited to talk to someone. I want passion, and I don’t have it.
My mother tells me
that when I meet someone I like,
I have to ask them three questions:
1. what are you afraid of?
2. do you like dogs?
3. what do you do when it rains?
of those three, she says the first one is the most important.
“They gotta be scared of something, baby. Everybody is. If they aren’t afraid of anything, then they don’t believe in anything, either.”
I met you on a Sunday, right
one look and my heart fell into
my stomach like a trap door.
on our second date,
I asked you what you were afraid of.
“spiders, mostly. being alone. little children, like, the ones who just learned how to push a kid over on the playground. oh and space. holy shit, space.”
I asked you if you liked dogs.
“I have three.”
I asked you what you do when it rains.
“sleep, mostly. sometimes I sit at the window and watch the rain droplets race. I make a shelter out of plastic in my backyard for all the stray animals; leave them food and a place to sleep.”
he smiled like he knew.
like his mom told him the same
“how about you?”
I’m scared of everything.
of the hole in the o-zone layer,
of the lady next door who never
smiles at her dog,
and especially of all the secrets
the government must be breaking
it’s back trying to keep from us.
I love dogs so much, you have no idea.
I sleep when it rains.
I want to tell everyone I love them.
I want to find every stray animal and bring them home.
I want to wake up in your hair
and make you shitty coffee
and kiss your neck
and draw silly stick figures of us.
I never want to ask anyone else
"What if Walter White told stupid chemistry jokes instead of cooking meth?"
Yes pls omg
1. insult dennys
2. dennys replys with a sassy comeback
3. notes*(contemplating)* do we truly have that much power?
I know I probably don’t cross your mind much anymore but I hope someday you see something that reminds you of me and the things we use to spend hours talking about at night and then your throat gets tight and your heart skips a beat and you finally miss me back.