inquilabipoet
When I saw you, I knew.
I just knew.
The wanting climbed into every bone
and nestled deep.
My mouth watered,
my eyes were wet,
my hands ached,
and I knew I was in trouble.
I knew, who you’d become to me,
and how soft your name would be in my mouth,
and how madness would come in whispers,
and how one day I’d write poems about how beautiful and delicate you are,
and feel sick.
Key Ballah, the length of your neck was the foreshadow of a broken heart (via keywrites)