Heart Strings

infatuated ;

I hear the sound of your voice, laced thick with sleep, saying my name at 3 am, and that's it. that's it, that's all it takes, and I know I'm done for. my heart skips a few beats and all the breath in my body rushes to my lungs and all the butterflies in my belly go insane. those three syllables so languidly roll off your tongue, and with that my mind goes rolling downhill and my spine is cracking into two and my insides are shaking as if the tremors of this earthquake will never subside. I want to her you say it, one more time, and then again, one more time, and then again, one more time. I could never get tired of it, I could never get tired of you, never.

I've always hated the sound of my name, and I've done everything to make people call me anything but. and then you came along, and insisted to do that one thing no one else ever had, and I'm so glad. I'm so glad, because my name has only sounded like it belongs to me when you say it, and my name only feels right when you say it, and I want you to be there beside me, saying it forever and ever.

if I would ever get used to this, I do not know. I don't think I want to. you make me feel things that could only be caused by supernovas exploding in my gut and stardust settling at the bottom of the ventricles of my heart. you make me feel entire galaxies and the heat of a million stars coursing through my veins at once.

and who in their right mind, would want to give that up?

- (when you say my name at 3 am), s.m.