This is a poem about
how you never get what you want
when you want it.
About how you’ll fall in love
for the first time
and he’ll smother you
but you’ll want him again and again
and outside and under
and everywhere in between your limbs
because without him all you feel
is winter.
This is a promise.
You won’t always feel like this.
He’ll become a memory. He will no longer
look at you as the place he goes
to feel something when he gets lonely.
Your body will never forget him
or the way he held you softly, pressing his fingertips
into the small of your back,
but my dear girl, you have to remember
to walk away when the time comes.
This is another promise.
You will fall in love more than once.
Never forget that.
The man that you will marry
will come into your life unannounced
and mostly likely unwelcome. He will
have eyes that leave you breathless
and hands that make you want to write poetry.
Do this.
Let him leave you breathless.
Write him a poem or two.
Or three.
This is a mirror.
You are doing the best you can
with what you have
and you’re damn beautiful
if you ask me.
(Source: kleineperle, via carpediemplacere)
