poetry ;; typical_writers

constilations. | edited

When I reach to hold your hand I have to remind myself that we are not together.

I know that me, and you won't last forever.

Because my life moves more quickly than I can precieve it.

I guess since I know this won't last there's something I must admit.

I love everything about you, and when I say that, I'm not lying at all.

I love the way you act, and how hard you've made me fall.

I love the marks on your skin that I cannot fathom into constellations.

It's like how you shouldn't put something you know is real in quotations.

Your mind is like a blank canvas that can never be made up.

But the sweet little words you say are like your souls makeup.

I never seem to stop thinking about how sad we both are deep down.

But I love the way your hairs yellow-ish brown.

I never know when you'll have a breakdown.

And our ends are coming to a countdown.

Do you ever realize your always the talk of the town?

Maybe cause we all know you hurt, but you never frown.

Does it ever bother you to know I listen more than your closest friends?

Or did you know they would all come to an end?

Just like how I'm afraid one day I'll look at our book and remember how we used to be.

Do you realize how your always my cup of tea?

Maybe all I said wasn't a joke after all, and your my one and only love.

I know if you gave me you and I gave you me you would never be given up.

Maybe one day I'll be able to form constellations out of the marks on your skin.

I'll find the galaxies behind your eyes.

And I'll flow with the wind.

I'll travel the paths that lead down your fingers.

And in the end, once I've discovered it all, I'll paint you a picture.

Your the only human in the world that can fascinate me this much.

When it's midnight I always seem to crave your soft touch.

But hey, let's not change like everyone else in the worlds clutch.

I want to stay the same, with you, until we die, old or young.

I don't care how long our lives are together, as long as it was fun.

I don't want to live my days on the run.

But remember how I said I loved everything about you?

I love how you stress.

I love how you get so depressed.

Is it bad I love that about you? I know it's mad.

I love those things because they are what makes you.

You wouldn't be the same without being a little depressed.

Does it ever bother you to know the air still fills your chest?

Does it ever make you cry to know what you've done to your flesh?

Do you ever regret the stupid things you've done to people just for the face of impress?

Do you ever wish you could fall into an internal rest?

I can't say I haven't felt the same before, our souls are more alike than we would like to admit.

I looked up and saw red blood as you bit your lip.

Here take my stars, comprehend all my constellations, find my galaxies darling.

Figure out my puzzle, understand my thoughts, fathom how much im falling.

Please darling.