Miss your teeth dug in my shoulder,
as we rolled in early morning,
Miss your arm dying beneath me,
as I lay there simply yawning.
I no longer need you to fuck me as hard
as I hate myself.
Make love to me
like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.
I’m new to this
but I have seen nearly every city from a rooftop without jumping.
I have realized
that the moon did not have to be full for us to love it.
We are not tragedies
stranded here beneath it.
I’ll marry a man who knows how I take my tea, coffee, and alcohol
And knows when to make which.
Before you can rise from the dead, you have to spend a few days in hell.Emily Thorne, Revenge. (via heartneverforgets)