Trans Women Are ALWAYS Included When I’m Referring To Women

I talk with the moon about you, you know?

i hate working out (my mental health and chronic pain prevent me but I yearn for bulging muscles)

shoutout to butches who hate the gym and physical exertion. shout out to fat fucks and scrawny malnurished bitches with no biceps to speak of. shout out to that butch who gets winded on the stairs

do you love me enough to clean my glasses when my shirt isn’t the right fabric?

will you be my overexplainer if I'm an overthinker?

college in a nutshell....

#givememypaper #whywordwhy

would you sit with me when it's raining outside

lately i’ve just been yearning for something more.

i want a partner, someone to come home to and just exist with. waking up to the prettiest girl in the world, holding her, kissing her body, soft spoken words to gently wake her. morning snuggles with kisses exchanged, content sighs, groans of refusal to get out of bed and face the day. tempting her to get out of bed by promising a shower with more kisses to perk her up.

hot droplets of water running down our skin as we can’t stop touching each other, our mouths obsessed with each others as we waste a ton of water, our attention only on each other. soft touches, maybe helping each other get clean. holding her close, smiling into her skin as i kiss her shoulders, lathering up the soap on her body.

clad only in an old band t shirt of mine and boyshorts, she reads the news on her phone as i make her breakfast, serving it up on her plate with a kiss on her temple. she hums contentedly and tells me she loves me as she watches me take a sip of my orange juice before i toss a wink her way, followed by a smile that is reserved only for her. we exchange nonsense conversation over food, unable to stop touching each other. my fingertips brushing over her bare knee, her hand on my forearm tracing my tattoos, our fingers intertwined as our dog begs for scraps. she smiles at me with an eye-roll, turning her attention to him and talking to him as if he were a baby. i smile at her, feeling my love for her consume me even more than it has every day since i met her.

as i work, she sends me a mixture of texts, ranging from sweet to flirty to supportive. i drive home at the end of the day, exhausted and wanting nothing more to relax. i put my keys in my door and am greeted with the sight of my wife just existing in our living room. watching some trashy reality show, she turns at the sound of footsteps, standing up to greet me. her arms around me, her lips on mine, her perfume comforting me as i feel so warm inside. dinner is in the oven, i am being held by my favourite person and all is well.

settling down after food, deciding to snuggle in bed. she picks what we watch. a rom-com. i always hated rom-coms. till i met her. till i knew love was real. till i knew it was possible to be so consumed by a person you felt as though you would combust. pulling her closer, i kiss her shoulder, tell her i love her. tell her how much i live for the mundane days. that this is all i want. she is all i want.

Let’s bring back the art of kissing for for hours and hours