memriii
When sex becomes a production or performance that is when it loses its value. Be mutual. Be loud. Be clumsy. Make noises, be quiet, and make a mess. Bite, scratch, push, pull, hold, thrust. Remove pressure from the moment. Love the moment. Embrace it. Enjoy your body; enjoy your partners’ body. Produce sweat, be natural, entice your senses, give into pleasure. Bump heads, miss when you kiss, laugh when it happens. Speak words, speak with your body, speak to their soul. Touch their skin, kiss their goose bumps, and play with their hair. Scream, beg, whimper, sigh, let your toes curl, lose yourself. Chase your breath; keep the lights on, watch their eyes when they explode. Forget worrying about extra skin, sizes of parts and things that are meaningless. Save the expectations, take each second as it comes. Smear your make up, mess up your hair, rid your masculinity, and lose your ego. Detonate together, collapse together, and melt into each other.
memriii

It’s 3:42 in the morning and I want to text you and pour out my soul and say “good god I miss you like a bullet hole” but the truth is I miss who you were and what we had and nether of those things is coming back and if I was to call you right now it wouldn’t change a thing because you’ve become a stranger to me and the person I love doesn’t exist anymore and the happiness we shared might as well have been a dream because

even though you have his smile and his laugh and the way he always runs his hands through his hair: it’s all completely wrong. somehow, the boy I love is gone.

“I miss him more than anything but I don’t really want to see him again.” /// r.i.d
(via inkskinned)