In my first year of college I knew a boy; a boy that set off sticks of dynamite in my heart. This is my account of wanting to be his lover, but never getting the chance.
-Sincerely, Tiffany Rose.
Between books and broken hearts.
I feel our minds could speak a thousand sentences to one another.
Glances and eye rolls, glances and eye rolls.
When is it our turn to share sips and tips on living life when you’re empty
Lives on opposing bar stools.
Slumped shoulders in combination with glasses of potent drink mixtures are what keep
fingers shaking and minds racing.
Except my glass is
and yours is
Different pages of the same hardback novel
but severely adored.
Breakable, Exhausting, and frenzied
That is my affection for you.