Anticipation leads to heartbeats, heartbeats lead to hope.
And then my soul saw you and it kind of went "Oh there you are. I've been looking for you."
My heart keeps telling me hold my breath. You'll never learn a thing if you bail out now.
Wait. But don't wait too long. Work hard. But don't forget how to play. Sing loudly. But don't learn all the words. Wonder. But not so much that you lose yourself. Read magazines. But read more books. Love.
And when I put my arms around him, I felt the blushing blood run through my cheeks and an eeriness surrounded when his tongue began to speak and said, "You are beautiful."
This is how it works: You're young until you're not. You love until you don't. You try until you can't. You laugh until you cry. You cry until you laugh. And everyone must breathe until their dying breath. No, this is how it works: You peer inside yourself. You take the things you like and try to love the things you took. And you take that love you made and stick it into someone else's heart. Pumping someone else's blood. And walking arm in arm, you hope it don't get harmed. But even if it does, you just do it all again.
You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.
And then my soul saw you and it kind of went "Oh there you are. I've been looking for you."
My heart keeps telling me hold my breath. You'll never learn a thing if you bail out now.
Wait. But don't wait too long. Work hard. But don't forget how to play. Sing loudly. But don't learn all the words. Wonder. But not so much that you lose yourself. Read magazines. But read more books. Love.
And when I put my arms around him, I felt the blushing blood run through my cheeks and an eeriness surrounded when his tongue began to speak and said, "You are beautiful."
This is how it works: You're young until you're not. You love until you don't. You try until you can't. You laugh until you cry. You cry until you laugh. And everyone must breathe until their dying breath. No, this is how it works: You peer inside yourself. You take the things you like and try to love the things you took. And you take that love you made and stick it into someone else's heart. Pumping someone else's blood. And walking arm in arm, you hope it don't get harmed. But even if it does, you just do it all again.
You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.
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