he is like the cool breeze that breaks the heat in the summer. or the colder one that burns in the winter, all i know is he makes me feel alive. it's as if he has revived my very being with his silk fingertips as they graze across my skin, do you believe in life after death? do you believe a breath can be taken after the last one is given, that there is some place after all of this bullshit? i dont have an answer, i don't. he is my heaven, the closest thing i'll ever get. those amber eyes that manifest at five am, i am silently pleading with him to stay but i know he will anyway. he is always. he is constant. he is dependable and i know when i turn the lights off to go to sleep i will wake up with him time and time again, but most of all i am begging myself to stay. id never been the one to stick around, flight before fight, flight before happiness, i run from everything i do, i break everything i touch. i am afraid he will become another number, another box of broken letters stashed under my bed, all the ones i'd read when i was buried in the ground with greif- this boy- this fucking boy saved me. i've never had much of a home, only an empty building occasionally filled by muttering voices and sometimes thundering noises but then he came about. i am finally at peace with myself, finally wading in these waters, the only place i wanna go is with him- he is my home. love is not a feeling of addiction or a need to stick around. love is constant. a never-ending always, when everything clicks into place.
i am so fucking scared.
- SOMETHING ABOUT HIM AND THE WAY HE EXISTS
[in which i am not dead only in love but really whats the difference]
