hi, i'm sarah. i write because otherwise my head becomes too crowded. all of these words amount to moments i've lived or people i've loved.
“with time, i will fade from this universe, but i hope that when you look to the night sky, you see my crooked smile in the crescent moon. hear my laugh as the fireflies dance and glow in the summer heat. feel my embrace in your darkest of hours and know that when i whispered “forever,” i meant i’d never leave. i’ll live on in your heart, as infinite as the stars.” - gabrielle green.
p.s all of my writing is tagged under "original work".
• say hello.
• give me something to write about.
i made promises to myself that i would be there. while your heart ticked away in your ribs which guarded it like pearly gates waiting, just waiting for the right person to have the key. it took me four days to realise i’d unlocked them a lifetime ago.
i made promises to myself that i would be there. in amongst the flowers which bloom underneath your skin with every new idea that drips, like sweat, down from your brain and into your heart. it took me a week to realise the best idea i’d ever had was us.
i made promises to myself that i would be there. while our hands sunk into each other and sighed in relief, that the miles of distance which separated us like caged birds had disappeared in a matter of hours. it took me seconds to realise i was home.
2:16 am • 11 March 2013 • 6 notes
through every dip and curve of each day that hits us like a tidal wave or touches us like soft fingers on a spine, i fall even more desperately in love with you. thoughts of my skin running over your thighs, hot, sticky kisses stolen in pools of crisp, clear water and a tether, pulled taught during times of distress run through my mind. it’s bubbling, just simmering at the memory, the utter thought of you and my heart has been beat, beat, beating in time with yours since the moment we met. through every holiday where fireworks burn more brightly and colourfully as each year passes, i fall even more desperately in love with you. but today especially, i am thankful for my whispered ‘for always’ when my heart finally gave into your ‘forever.’
10:08 pm • 14 February 2013 • 7 notes
you are a brand new day
and as you stretch out
your tired muscles and
whisper good morning
into my ear, the sun rises
just a bit more beautifully.
3:07 am • 1 February 2013 • 5 notes
the intoxicating scent of that hot summer hits my nostrils. it’s crazy, because then i’m there and it’s all boiling sand, bruised feet and too much to drink. we were rocking forward, sinking backwards and suddenly my heart was intertwining with yours.
i remember the look of your skin in the sun. it was harder to live then, in that time of what-if-you-leave and this-has-to-end. but you were cradling me, i was cradling you and we put ourselves back together while the waves crashed around us and washed away the worry.
the ghost of your skin against mine rocks my brain. it was delicious how you did that, touched me so gorgeously that all i became was static hair and humming nerves. we jumped our fingers over each other, under one another and promised ‘forever’ while the stars counted us instead.
1:25 am • 29 January 2013 • 1 note
there’s a ruckus and it’s pulling me in,
synapses overloaded, eyes blinded
and yet, all i can think about is you
rocking into me, me rocking into you,
and suddenly you’re pulling me through
this moment, into bed and i’m feeling,
just begging for more, as you put your
fingers right there and i drop into bliss.
7:22 pm • 25 January 2013 • 4 notes
oh, how my heart does ache
when i untangle it from yours
and tuck it back into all of the
letters, sweaters and hushed
whispers that carry the scent
of your perfume and gently
rock me to sleep.
oh, how my heart does groan
when i kiss you goodbye so
fiercely that i hope it settles
on your lips until the next time
our flesh meets so beautifully
that my skin feels on fire and
my body is filled with joy.
oh, how my heart does heal
when you cradle me so dearly
from an ocean away and remind
me so tenderly that this is not
the end our of love but instead
a continuation of the best promise
i’ve ever made.
11:20 pm • 16 January 2013 • 12 notes
“You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world, and there’s still going to be somebody who hates peaches.”
— Dita Von Teese (via imfantasyparade)
9:38 pm • 13 November 2012 • 10,432 notes
it’s november and my throat is full of phlegm. i’m cough, spluttering my way into december, onto the plane and into your arms. this room made for one is colder now, and ice fills my windows full of beautiful patterns of winter. i bundle myself into shapes of loneliness, sometimes fighting the happiness just to be bitter against distance, full oceans and the land spread between us. it’s november and my throat is full of phlegm. i’m cough, spluttering my way into deceiving myself, into believing that you’re here and i’m breathing in your scent.
2:47 am • 12 November 2012 • 3 notes
you are so frustrating when you look like that. all messy hair and tanned skin, every inch as soft as the last. it’s delightful to have you spread out beneath me. eyes encouraging, taunting, wanting for me to taste you, to have your skin of peaches on my tongue.
there’s something about the way you look right now. all soft curves and bruised knees, a carefree july written into your paleness. it’s wonderful to watch the shape of your body change as your delicious smile coaxes me into touching you faster, quicker, harder.
you are so frustrating when you look like that. all out of breath and desperate for more, your hot skin sizzling against mine. it’s beautiful to build you up with my touch. hands grabbing, reaching, grasping for me as you come up, over and fall apart.
8:10 pm • 24 October 2012 • 6 notes
suddenly i am fourteen again, stuck, stuttering between quick release anger and slow release pain. i’ve forgotten how to slow down, smooth out and suddenly, my instinct to fight flares from my pores and rushes into sentences full of bile. lashing words spill up, over, around and i am swimming in oil, hot and heavy, but i can’t find myself again and i think i might drown.
11:08 pm • 20 October 2012 • 1 note