“Your lips land on mine like a delicate prayer but I can still taste my mistakes years later.”

You are the thunderstorm warning and I’m dancing in acid rain.

The night is wine and we’re the stars.

How can I be soft when tough love is all I ever known?

I’ve got the midnight blues in the middle of the afternoon – the side effects of missing you.

If love is rain ours is always pouring.

Everyone chases fairytales and magic until love becomes an illusion.

I dream about the body I wish I had and all the ways I could be touched in it.

If this love is going to break me, at least make my suffering sweet. I want to know what you taste like in sweltering summer heat.

If there’s still hope for the hopeless, there must be hope for us.

I imagine myself cold as ice falling into your open arms. Everyone says it’s beautiful where I am but I’d rather be where you are.

I write poetry in my sleep because you only visit me in my dreams.

Play me a symphony of love with your tongue. It doesn’t have to be romantic.

I watch in silence as day turns to dusk as our love turns to dust.

Desperate for answers, I go searching in the stars. I ask them: on a scale of one to catastrophe, how beautiful would they say we are?

I used every color on my palette to bring you back to life. Now you paint the most beautiful rainbows in someone else’s skies.

I am still learning to love all the parts of me you kept hidden.

I’ve gotten a lot of things wrong in my life, a lot of missteps I’ve taken in strife; but one thing I’m certain i’ve always gotten right, is the feel of your lips so soft and so light.

On my knees, lips slightly parted thirsty, ready for a strong stiff one. Make it neat I love the burn.

Have I been buried alive by chronic pain? I can taste the dirt as they put me in the earth, thick on my lips like the honey that drips down my lips.

Her lips have so many burns and scars, but they are still sugar-sweet.

Your smile keeps me longing for the taste of your lips pressed against my soul.

She bleeds the life of golden rose from her lips whenever she kisses.

Even if I have no other makeup on, I always want a nude lip, and if I’m going to do a bright, I want it to be matte.

If only love spilled from lips and truth bled from hearts then hate would drown in a flood of understanding.