Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.

Some things are better left unsaid.  (via fawun)
I wish someone had warned me not to touch the fire behind a man’s soul,
I wish someone had said,
“You can reach out, you can let it warm you,
but you can’t touch,” because
when I did,
when I reached out too far for you,
the flames that flickered wildly from
your fearless spirit
kissed my trembling fingers and
licked my skin and
spread and spread and spread and now,
everyone goes to sleep at night
with visions in their minds and
ringing in their ears,
how I
screamed out your name
while I
was burning.
Kayla Kathawa - I’ve overstepped my bounds and now I’m burning (via ninakathawa)