Tag: danny

1. If their eyes ever falter as you walk into a room, walk away. You may not believe it, but you deserve to be reflected in their irises.   

2. If you’re sitting in your bed with their voice echoing in your head, using your sheets to wipe your nose, and can think of sixteen reasons to go and one to stay, you should go. You will find someone better for you, I promise.  

3. If you go into it hoping you can get them to smoke less weed or stop saying ‘fuck’ so damn much, don’t go further. Old habits die hard, if at all; make sure you can live with their quirks.

4. If they hold their glass of vodka closer than your waist, let them go. You do not deserve to come in second to their vices.

5. If they pinch your love handles and tell you your curls look better straightened, leave. The way you were created deserves to be adored.

6. Know you are worth millions of atoms, of stardust and spiraling staircases of double helixes, and do not accept anything less than love.

you are worthy: things i wish i had known when i met you // a.s.m

i asked you for space, 
but i don’t think your shadow understood
because i see it’s reflection in the sky
in the shape of the crows when they fly.
i know you have no reason 
to not want to say goodbye,
but remember how i made you feel 
when i whispered my way into your ear
to form mountains up and down your spine, 
where your imagination would crawl to 
places i did not know existed.

maybe you’ll always exist in me somewhere, but you wanted more than i ever thought i could give. // a.s.m

You were only
the second person
I understood how to love. 
I was naive– I still hadn’t learned
that love isn’t
bleeding out onto the card table
and showing everyone your hand;
that in order to win, 
you had to bluff.

And I came in like a hurricane and
tore apart the small space
you had just started feeling like you could call home. 
I asked for a room– you weren’t sure
you had any.

But I made myself a copy
of your keys and slept
at the foot of your bed until 
you finally started leaving
extra eggs in the frying pan for me
in the mornings. 
But you never were one for routine. 

You were a runner,
you said. You didn’t like to stay still. 
You could find home within yourself but
were too scared to rent out property
in anybody else. 

I told you I was looking 
for a tenant. 

When I finally started making an indent
in your mattress, 
you locked me out. 

‘It’s too risky,’ you said, 
‘this real estate game.’

i just wanted you to want me, too // a.s.m