you were coffee at midnight when i lay awake
sleep became a sacrifice unless it was shared in my room
hands held and staring in silence in fear of wasting time
you were teeth and hands that could mesmerize someone without sight
eloquence and compassion radiated and it made me drunk
thumbs wiping my eyes hands entwined in my hair
my god how can i be expected to act as though it didn’t happen
you were whispers at night and i can still hear them
“Isn’t it strange that we talk least about the things we think about most?”— (via urbanoutfucks)
