when edgar allan poe said “tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.” and when hozier said “i wouldn’t fall for someone i thought couldn’t misbehave.”
“You need to know how badly I want you. At this point, I’m beyond caring if I come off as needy. I don’t care if I come off as weak. I’m already weak at the thought of you laying your hands upon anyone else. I’ve never been one to have a bad temper, but when I picture you sleeping soundly in someone else’s arms, it sets my veins on fire. I don’t need you to tell me how badly you want me, because chances are, you don’t. I just want you to wake up every morning and remember that there’s someone in this world who refuses to put you anywhere else but first. And I’m sorry if my hands are shaking as I say this to you. I’m just afraid. I’m afraid that your name will still beat within the rhythm of my chest as I’m lying next to someone else. I’m afraid of hearing your favorite song on the radio in the car, and no longer being able to see the road. I’m afraid that everything I have will never be enough if I try to give it to anyone else but you. Maybe you don’t need to know how badly I want you. Maybe I just need to know if you could ever want me too.”
If i’m telling you, “this is a hot plate.” But I make no effort to put it down, i’m internally yelling at you to move your shit. Your phone. Your keys. Your bread. Whatever is directly in front of you is from that point on is now classified as your shit. The shit you are suddenly responsibly for and I am burning my hands for. Move your shit. I’m not going to move it for you.
Shoutout to the people who see me approaching with their food and immediately start clearing the way for me. You are the real MVPs. You know what’s up. You understand.
As for everybody else. Move. Your. Shit.
Me
We see that and we respect the fuck out of you. Thank you.
i was talking with my brothers yesterday and we decided the best way to own a guy who takes off his shirt to fight you is to pick his shirt up and put it on
