I crave you in the most innocent form. I crave you to say good night and give you forehead kisses and say that I adore you when you feel at your worst. I crave you in ways where I just want to be next to you and nothing more or less
I don't feel empty. Just a unique poem
"If the words you spoke appeared on your skin, would you still be beautiful?" I have a lot to be thankful for. My skin doesn't betray the self-righteous, jealous, hypocrite I am in my heart.