Just grab my face and kiss me like you mean it.
Doors keep slamming in my face. I hope a door opens soon because I can’t take anymore of this rejection.
Draft page of “Stings,” Sylvia Plath
Love. I want to be in love, to fall in love hard and fast. I want everything that comes with loving. I want to stay up until the wee hours of morning talking like we’ll never hear each other’s voice again. I want the urgency every time we kiss. I want the comfort of your touch. I want to stare into your eyes, into your soul. I want to feel your breath on my neck.
Being completely sober in the midst of a group of red faced drunks is interesting to say the least.
It’s been too long. I want to kiss. I want to make out. I want to hold hands. I want our faces to be close. Sigh
I might be lazy, a loner, a bit of a stoner, it’s true. But I might be perfect, I’ll make myself perfect, perfect for you.