langleav:

Lullabies by Lang Leav

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langleav:

A Lesson by Lang Leav

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depths-in-me:

Personal blog that you will love!

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Dear Juliet,

arcticnebula:

Some others define love by the moments the other left them breathless. I divide ours in the seconds you made me feel most alive. It’s the soft exhales of your breath into my lips. It’s the sweet taste as it passes over my tongue and dribbles like warm honey down the back of my throat, filling the breadth of my chest. Breathing never came so easily. Never have I wanted to inhale the world in a gulp and keep it there. Just the thought of someone else’s hands willing for your hands, the fleeting idea of someone else’s shadow being left on your skin. To not be able to taste that wanderlust tongue and become intoxicated off the sweet nothings. I am alive, but I no longer want to be.The world has been washed of its color since you left. The sky has been sunburn white, the clouds wilt their petals in rain, the ocean has torn the beach line asunder in your wake. My world is a catastrophe brimming at the surface.

Others move on, they tell me, like its effortless. They find new loves to blossom, blush in their skin. They are right. They are right in the sense of survival over love. But we promised forever, didn’t we? This heart has been forged by you, created and sculpted to fit the palms of your hands. It would not sit right in another’s hands, and chip away at it, destroying the beauty you bestowed it with just for the sake of body warmth on cold nights. I could not forgive myself and my heart could not forgive me. Ignore the tear stains and realize this is not the words of a weak man, but that of a lover who believes in forever. A lover who has swallowed the truth that without you, there is no one. Without you, there is a world on the brink of destruction. Without you, there is no point to this pointless existence.

I cannot breathe in deeper than that of a drowning victim, so what is the point in breathing at all? This is what I ask softly, and no one has the answers. Every second, each breath, cements the knowledge that you are gone. It washes the taste of you from my lungs, and shrinks my chest cavity until it’s strangling my soul. Forgive me, as I die with only fragments, shards embedded in the soft lining of my heart. Forgive me even more, for choosing to die for the selfish reason of keeping you as the last piece of the world I taste.

Forever,
Your Romeo.

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