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paula marie
17 // english is not my first language, please be nicešŖ¼
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paula marie
17 // english is not my first language, please be nicešŖ¼
17 // english is not my first language, please be nicešŖ¼
17 // english is not my first language, please be nicešŖ¼
if your hand could reach inside my heart,
what would you do with it?
you painted me pictures of heaven
as fresh as the spring walks we went on
as warm as the hugs you gave me
as sweet as the kisses we shared
holding hands turned into family dinners
and what stayed was the way that my head just so perfectly fit in that one spot on your shoulder
i tried to stay distant and take things slow
yet ...
āthereās good fish and bad fishā
my mom used to say
iām seven years old
out on a beach day
āpay attention, take careā
i hear her voice in my head
i will, i promise
just one more step
the ocean surrounding me
i take it all in
a shimmering existence
a spark of the happiest iāve ever been
heās making his way to me
i reach for him just like i did
at the beach at seven
but now i just wait and si...
tw(?)
ādid i really want thisā,
is the question in my pounding head,
all day i lie in bed,
zach bryan calls that shit pure bliss.
i shouldnāt have done it,
i swear i am smart!
thinking about the words that were whispered in the dark,
but iām really just a kid.
how did i let it get so messy,
itās all my fault
3am and still awake:
āi mightāve been too dressyā,
it burns my wounds like salt,
to k...
i like to think the
cars rushing,
cheeks flushing,
crowds talking,
men walking,
donāt stress my soul the way they do.
iāve never been a city person,
yet for you i wanted to be.
iāve been on every subway cursing,
just for your face to light up
when you see,
all along it couldāve been me.
now i sit and drink from my lonely cup,
the busy lights there out my window.
iāve never been a city person t...
āAre you happy?ā
I stand on my doorstep and glance at the letters written on the envelope I found in my mailbox this morning. No name, no address.
Am I? Happy? Is that of any relevance?
I open the letter sipping my morning tea. Earl Grey.
I watch as a small segment of ash falls from it onto my rug, dissolving into hundreds of small pieces.
Sometimes I feel like that.
Staring at the silver parti...
my cat matches the colour
of the leaves now,
we made a vow
to find no other.
your love warm
like the inside of my sweater,
it only gets better
when you take me to your dorm.
we fell in love in fall
not long ago,
i just want you to know
i wonder if this would end as cold
as this season,
currently waiting for the treason....