Share on Tumblr Just-Being-Me
delicatepoetry
But you see I’m more of the type of girl who will wear jeans and my favorite shirt, instead of a short dress and new shoes. I spend more time finding the right book to read than applying my mascara. You will find me lost in a story and writing on napkins in coffee shops all over town, because that’s where I feel accepted. If you saw me you wouldn’t look twice, just because I am an average girl, a shy, introverted girl. It’s just not fair though, that I am looked at as unapproachable because of it. No one will come up to me and smile to ask my name or how I’m doing, they just don’t know, that maybe, when I look up from my book they’d see eyes that hold mysteries and a mind that could tell you hundreds of stories about the stars. They don’t know that I could form their personality into a poem that actually speaks the truth of their thoughts, or that maybe if we fell in love, my heartbeat’s would only say their name in the stillness of the night. Yet I am just over looked, I don’t catch anyone’s eye, or attention when I walk into a room. Because my waist is hidden behind this tee shirt, and my face is covered by my hair and my smile is lost in a sea of sadness and confusion. Behind all of this though, is a soul and a heart that is as deep and ever growing as the ocean, there’s so much to discover yet no one wants to jump in and take a chance.
i.c. // The Unnoticed Girls (via delicatepoetry)
mingdliu
What is it like
to have someone
who knows your body
better than you do
your own,
to have this person
trace their finger
down your spine
and when they whisper
three words
you feel every hair
on your body stick up in response,
with the shivers going
all the way into your heart
and somewhere in your soul.
What is it like
to feels someone’s burning touch
while they are just gazing
into your eyes,
to taste their lips,
one kiss,
a second,
and one more after another
and feeling like it’s the first time
every time.
What is it like
to fall asleep next to someone
on a Jack Daniels kind of Saturday night
and find them drinking coffee
right besides you
the next morning?

A Story A Day #199 by M.D.L

(via mingdliu)
delicatepoetry
When she leaves you will find yourself laying in bed one night, unable to sleep so you flip over your pillow to find a long strand of hair. The only girl who’s ever been in your bed was her, and it belongs to her. Your heart will feel heavy and your bones begin to break one by one when you look at it but you just keep it there and turn the pillow over again. It’s better to have the tiniest piece of her existence near you instead of nothing at all. When she leaves she will take the flowers she planted deep in your soul, and nothing will be left but dead leaves, I guess it’s better than nothing at all. When she leaves you won’t even be able to look at your bare skin without picturing her’s against it, you won’t be able to feel anything softer than her lips when they met yours. When she leaves you’ll find her remnants washed up in your room like worms on a sidewalk after it rains. You’ll stumble across bobby pins, and scrunchies, how could someone have so many god damn bobby pins? When she leaves your favorite sweater will smell like her, and you won’t be able to picture anything but how she looked when she was curled up in your arms every winter evening. When she leaves you’ll think that love is not real, it can’t be real, because the girl you planned forever with just left you in the dark. She was your one and only light in a world of dull black, but she’s gone now. Ever since she left, you feel gone now, too.
i.c. // when she leaves (via delicatepoetry)