Sshhhh! Don't tell anyone, but the best kept secret in the performance art indutry is... (come closer).... *looks around nervously*..... ....Practice practice practice! :)
When I find you nappingwith your bum up in the airand one sock hanging offI feel the way ants must feel at a picnicHoly shitI don’t even know where to startI just knowThat I don’t want this to endRight nowthis sure feels like the very first timeI’ll fall in love for the last timethe first time thatthat doesn’t sound like some cheesy linefrom some cheesy love poemeven though it ismaybethis is just the first timeI’m proud to write a cheesy love poemwith extremeslike no matter whatand I promise I promisedwhen you buried dreams in my bellybutton i stopped spitting outwatermelon seeds so i could grow sweetness inside to pour unto your tongue not that you need it.You always say the right thingand i have a mouth full of marbles and usually all i can say is I love your boobsbut what i mean to say is you feel like a love letter from a million years agoopening you after all this time has tumbled me awake. I’m holding on to the cartwheels in your laughter so they can turn me upside down and shake the dust from the dress I wore on the tire swing my father hung from the willow tree, It’s still weeping, years later for the dreams I left on the upswing I just didn’t wanna be disappointed when they came back down and the ground hit me harder than a home runnow I run home to youoceans kisses blowing onto the shore finding home and shedding their sea legs now I run home to you just to watch you dance to Tegan and Sara in your underwear in the living room I could run home to you every day i won’t say forever because forever is just another number and I’ve stopped counting.on the day you looked my past in the eye and said you love it for every risk it took to get me here I gathered up all the clocks in the house sat them down and we had a little chat i said look here Linear Time not to hurt your feelings or anythingbut you have become irrelevant Because there’s this girl who holds moonbeams like a pocket watch between her thumb and four finger counting out moments of bliss and then i wipe their faces for younow they only ever read: be here now I’ve stopped counting on anything but youbut baby let’s not kid ourselvesin order to make a masterpiecewe need to get a little paint on the floorwhen we do I know you’ll be tempted to stop everything and clean it up right then and thereand I would leave it as a monument to each of our messes. Then I’d end up tracking it through the whole house on the souls of my feet when I start running circles around my own records disasters I am so ready for the mileage we’ll rack up running each other into the ground in a good way, like planting flowers in a parking lot like growing lily pads in a desert love, it isn’t always easy but ive stopped counting the raindrops it will take to grow this thing the last time I looked at the odometer was the first date we drove 18,000 kilometers and I spent the whole time looking at the right side of your face trying to think of something cool to say, Unfortunately all I came up with was “ We’re gonna get out of the car now it’s smoking” even though I don’t have my licenseIt’s just a matter of time before I start driving you crazyI told you that sometimes I leave a tiny bit of almond milk in the carton and put it back in the fridge and you said you’d love me anyways, but did I tell you my love of cloth napkins is not the only thing I inherited from my mother sometimes I’m a little micromanaging and I am never on time. My fault lines will start rubbing you the wrong way and I’ll smile n say I’m not for everyone. Remember how you kissed me at the beaver pond that’s not a euphemism remember how we got lost on the way home and we found each other the day you bought us matching socks for the days we have matching hearts beats but our heartbreaks look nothing alike my razor blade storm clouds with their fists in front of my face are no match for the pillow fight in your eyes there are days when the rain falls so hard summer is a lost cause I’m stuck in bed and you can’t even hold my broken mirror fairytale long enough that the glass of my thick skin sometimes I nightmare my own shackles and I know you don’t have a key so I’ll dream candle okras of moonshine for the nights when the moon doesn’t shine and we’re lost again and the ticking of my metronome heart has lost its rhythm in your outbreath and I can’t crawl back into your chest without lighting a match on the melt of your heart on the skeletons in your closet are on fire again ill teach then to stop counting the broken bones because the only think worth counting is how many stars it will take to get me home, I don’t know how many that is but it doesn’t matter because we’ve got all the time in the world to never figure it out, baby I will run a mock into your snap plate picnic like those ants, frenzy and hungry for every piece, Who knows if we’ll still be holding hands when we reach, forever in the meantime at least we have matching socks, Even If you fucked it up and bought the think kind. - Dia Davina
I have never felt so full on a love that isn’t my own.
This is beautiful. I hope someday I have someone I feel this way about.
How is it possible to be that talented though...?
Sshhhh! Don't tell anyone, but the best kept secret in the performance art indutry is... (come closer).... *looks around nervously*.....
....Practice practice practice! :)
I sooooo want to know who walked in halfway through.
I started watching these because I saw my name...this is incredible.
wow
I'm crying...
My girlfriend sent me this to tell me how she felt. I’m literally crying
my girlfriend sent this to me :) she is beautiful
Is anyone have a lyrics on this?
I will gladly
type them for you
When I find you nappingwith your bum up in the airand one sock hanging offI feel the way ants must feel at a picnicHoly shitI don’t even know where to startI just knowThat I don’t want this to endRight nowthis sure feels like the very first timeI’ll fall in love for the last timethe first time thatthat doesn’t sound like some cheesy linefrom some cheesy love poemeven though it ismaybethis is just the first timeI’m proud to write a cheesy love poemwith extremeslike no matter whatand I promise I promisedwhen you buried dreams in my bellybutton i stopped spitting outwatermelon seeds so i could grow sweetness inside to pour unto your tongue not that you need it.You always say the right thingand i have a mouth full of marbles and usually all i can say is I love your boobsbut what i mean to say is you feel like a love letter from a million years agoopening you after all this time has tumbled me awake. I’m holding on to the cartwheels in your laughter so they can turn me upside down and shake the dust from the dress I wore on the tire swing my father hung from the willow tree, It’s still weeping, years later for the dreams I left on the upswing I just didn’t wanna be disappointed when they came back down and the ground hit me harder than a home runnow I run home to youoceans kisses blowing onto the shore finding home and shedding their sea legs now I run home to you just to watch you dance to Tegan and Sara in your underwear in the living room I could run home to you every day i won’t say forever because forever is just another number and I’ve stopped counting.on the day you looked my past in the eye and said you love it for every risk it took to get me here I gathered up all the clocks in the house sat them down and we had a little chat i said look here Linear Time not to hurt your feelings or anythingbut you have become irrelevant Because there’s this girl who holds moonbeams like a pocket watch between her thumb and four finger counting out moments of bliss and then i wipe their faces for younow they only ever read: be here now I’ve stopped counting on anything but youbut baby let’s not kid ourselvesin order to make a masterpiecewe need to get a little paint on the floorwhen we do I know you’ll be tempted to stop everything and clean it up right then and thereand I would leave it as a monument to each of our messes. Then I’d end up tracking it through the whole house on the souls of my feet when I start running circles around my own records disasters I am so ready for the mileage we’ll rack up running each other into the ground in a good way, like planting flowers in a parking lot like growing lily pads in a desert love, it isn’t always easy but ive stopped counting the raindrops it will take to grow this thing the last time I looked at the odometer was the first date we drove 18,000 kilometers and I spent the whole time looking at the right side of your face trying to think of something cool to say, Unfortunately all I came up with was “ We’re gonna get out of the car now it’s smoking” even though I don’t have my licenseIt’s just a matter of time before I start driving you crazyI told you that sometimes I leave a tiny bit of almond milk in the carton and put it back in the fridge and you said you’d love me anyways, but did I tell you my love of cloth napkins is not the only thing I inherited from my mother sometimes I’m a little micromanaging and I am never on time. My fault lines will start rubbing you the wrong way and I’ll smile n say I’m not for everyone. Remember how you kissed me at the beaver pond that’s not a euphemism remember how we got lost on the way home and we found each other the day you bought us matching socks for the days we have matching hearts beats but our heartbreaks look nothing alike my razor blade storm clouds with their fists in front of my face are no match for the pillow fight in your eyes there are days when the rain falls so hard summer is a lost cause I’m stuck in bed and you can’t even hold my broken mirror fairytale long enough that the glass of my thick skin sometimes I nightmare my own shackles and I know you don’t have a key so I’ll dream candle okras of moonshine for the nights when the moon doesn’t shine and we’re lost again and the ticking of my metronome heart has lost its rhythm in your outbreath and I can’t crawl back into your chest without lighting a match on the melt of your heart on the skeletons in your closet are on fire again ill teach then to stop counting the broken bones because the only think worth counting is how many stars it will take to get me home, I don’t know how many that is but it doesn’t matter because we’ve got all the time in the world to never figure it out, baby I will run a mock into your snap plate picnic like those ants, frenzy and hungry for every piece, Who knows if we’ll still be holding hands when we reach, forever in the meantime at least we have matching socks, Even If you fucked it up and bought the think kind. - Dia Davina
matching socks... duces!