“It’s not even about what someone can give to me
It’s about what the fuck I have to offer.
I can do so much better than sit around and sulk in my own self hate all day.
I can get up and put on my favorite lipstick and break guys hearts.
But I don’t want to.
I want to fucking make someone feel like they’re ontop of the world,
I want to make them look at me and think they’re the luckiest person alive
And I fucking want them to love me.
The sound of my name
My voice
All my different laughs
How I sound when I’m tired
And how I look when I’m upset
I want someone to have to remind themselves they love me when I’m being the bitch that I am.
And I want someone to go on hikes with me or go to all the museums I love.
And take me to see all the stupid kiddy movies I always want to see
And I want them to hold my hand through out the whole damn thing and try to sneak a peek at my face when the good parts come up, and I want them think of me even when they’re busy or not in the right state of mind.
I want to be the reason they wake up in the morning.
And the last voice they hear at night
I want them to long for my lips and look at me at think I’m beautiful even when I’m in my darkest times and I cry right there in front of them.
And I want, I just want someone to get to know me.
And not in the ‘favorite song’ type of way.
But how much I fucking love the stars and how I want to decorate our house or discipline our kids.
I just want to be that for someone because I’ve felt what it’s like to have someone to feel that way for.
And I know, oh how I know, how it makes you feel invincible.
But I also know that it shatters every fucking part of your withered body when you lose them, and I just wanna make sure who ever has the luck to feel that way for someone, doesn’t get hurt.
And if I can save one person from that heartache for the rest of their life.
Then I would’ve lived a pretty fucking amazing life.”
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