Status: If you are the one I'm talking about and reading this, then I'm sure you know what to do
Raya, Combined With Confusion
The 20+ Things I Love About Raya
I love those brownish-diamond colored eyes, I love how excited she sounds every time we talk, how she sings from the bottom of her heart all the time, I spend a lot of time talking to her inside my head trying my best to rearrange the words inside of there so that they make sense, because I never make sense when I'm talking to her.
I laugh like a fucking crazy idiot after we talk recalling everything we talked about, she taught me the essence of being crazy, I do stupid shit just because I can be myself when I'm talking to her or around her, I love the way she lets her hair fall down on her face covering her eyes a bit as a way of saying that she's confident and she knows what she's doing and she can get what she wants, when sun rays play melodies on her face making it shine so bright and her diamond colored eyes which have an amazing not-ordinary sparkle, everything looks so magical, angels couldn't look the same.
I know that if we kiss I'd act like a thirsty guy who didn't know he's too thirst until he drinks the first sip of a water bottle; I'd never get enough, I know that so well.
And I know well enough that if I get to kiss her everyday, I'm going to quit smoking my entire life.
The way she lifts her chin up when she's singing, the way she laughs takes my breath away, I think about slamming my head across the wall and smashing it into pieces for I'm not there next to her all the time and I can't hold her.
But she's always so far away and I can't reach her, even if we get to hug, I can't get her to be mine.
But then again, I just love everything that has happened after we met, everything seems so different, full of energy, full of events, I became happy with everything that has happened because of her.
How is this even going to end?
She's my heaven and I'm the absolute sinner; I can never get to heaven
So I guess God is tempting me and bribing me by giving a taste of what it's like to be there.
I just know that I want to hear her voice all the time until I'm dead. I think I'd be the happiest ever if she sings in my funeral.
I can never summarize the stuff I like and love about her, and it makes me mad because while writing I can never run out of words, but FUCK, when describing heaven; language always deceives us.
I laugh like a fucking crazy idiot after we talk recalling everything we talked about, she taught me the essence of being crazy, I do stupid shit just because I can be myself when I'm talking to her or around her, I love the way she lets her hair fall down on her face covering her eyes a bit as a way of saying that she's confident and she knows what she's doing and she can get what she wants, when sun rays play melodies on her face making it shine so bright and her diamond colored eyes which have an amazing not-ordinary sparkle, everything looks so magical, angels couldn't look the same.
I know that if we kiss I'd act like a thirsty guy who didn't know he's too thirst until he drinks the first sip of a water bottle; I'd never get enough, I know that so well.
And I know well enough that if I get to kiss her everyday, I'm going to quit smoking my entire life.
The way she lifts her chin up when she's singing, the way she laughs takes my breath away, I think about slamming my head across the wall and smashing it into pieces for I'm not there next to her all the time and I can't hold her.
But she's always so far away and I can't reach her, even if we get to hug, I can't get her to be mine.
But then again, I just love everything that has happened after we met, everything seems so different, full of energy, full of events, I became happy with everything that has happened because of her.
How is this even going to end?
She's my heaven and I'm the absolute sinner; I can never get to heaven
So I guess God is tempting me and bribing me by giving a taste of what it's like to be there.
I just know that I want to hear her voice all the time until I'm dead. I think I'd be the happiest ever if she sings in my funeral.
I can never summarize the stuff I like and love about her, and it makes me mad because while writing I can never run out of words, but FUCK, when describing heaven; language always deceives us.