Sometimes I miss you so much that I feel like it’s going to consume me. Like drowning in a raging ocean storm, there is no quiet, peaceful end. It’s painful and utterly devastating until the very last second.
All the other times its a constant ache in my chest where you belong, which isn’t much better.
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Accurate.
My life.
Me. Cept it’s ‘housemates are coming home, quick Bernard lets go get my pants’
(via anchorsadrift)
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I remember everything.
The wrinkles on the bottom of your feet,
The shape of your ankles,
The curve of your calves to your knees.
I remember the feel of your thighs and
Your ass, god your ass does things to me.
I remember the dip of your lower back and
the start of the hair on your stomach.
The line of your spine and
the shapes and patterns that the hair forms on your shoulder blades.
I remember running my fingers through your chest hair and up over your collarbone and shoulders.
All the scars and marks on your back, neck and arms, even the ones behind your ears.
I remember your hairline and the colours of your skin, the tan lines and sometimes burn marks.
I remember kissing your chin and the stubble against my lips.
Your cheeks and mouth when you smile, and
The softness of your lips.
Last but not least, I remember the precise colour of your eyes and getting lost in their depths.
All this time has passed but I still remember the exquisitely marked map that is your whole body.
All this time and I remember everything.
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Sometimes I really like my face
I feel like I’m constantly torn between the past, and reality.
I’m trying to make the best of the situation that I have but so much of me just wants to curl in a ball and live in my fantasy world that looks a lot like the past.
Ugh I feel like a terrible person for wishing that because what I have isn’t bad, in fact it’s pretty darn good… It’s just not you.
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These shots were from Miss Ink last weekend




