Your lips taste like nicotine
And I know smoke has filled your lungs
But that’s okay
Because I can still find galaxies in your eyes
And I feel content
At the sight of those stars
And when your hand reaches mine
I feel flowers grow in my ribcage
And I feel butterflies flutter and bump against my stomach
And that’s okay
Because I’m okay
And we’re okay.
I want it to be summer so I can get up at dusk and walk the streets in these colours and smoke cigarettes in a sweatshirt and jean cut offs and be comfortable and care-free.
(Source: angry-plant, via imalrightnothankstoyou)