Early morning sunrises, and early morning kisses.
Warm rays of light.
It's pointless jokes and terrible puns.
It's the brightness of her smile, the sound of your contagious laugh.
It's the feeling of intertwined pinkies and puppy's yips in a Saturday's breeze.
It's the flowers in a field, the sand between your toes, the shade of a tree.
It's the glittering stars and 2am giggles followed by three a-m sloppy, lazy kisses, and four a-m snores.
But it's also stitched on faces and forced blistered smiles.
It's the blinding truth of never being good enough.
It's the horror of being fake.
It's the burning truth.
