Hope you can hear me groaning in despair, feeling intense pleasure inflicted with pain and anxiety. Every memoir of you is fucking my brains out. I want you and I’m going to find you but please,

give me a sign

Do you want to be mine? Do you want me infront of you? In the most vulnerable way? Armor down. Staring at you, if only my eyes can utter a word, it would say “I didn’t intend to fall into this endless pit hole, it’s dragging and pulling me closer to you as if the air in my lungs would leave me if I don’t submit to you, same feeling the moment I first saw you.

You’re the book I wanna read. You’re the book I wanna find. You’re the book I wanna buy. You’re the book I wanna hold. You’re book who captured my entire being. You’re the book that consumed me, the book that never runs out of pages. The never ending book I would never stop reading.

I want you in every chapter of my life, in an hour of my day, I want you to be there.

Give me a fucking sign

(Posted this from unsent letters too. I’m not expecting from you tho, let me just express what I really feel for you, F) (wrote this letter in the middle of the night)