I want
Everything.
Fill up my pot of gold.
Something I know I'll never find
Because I'm the kind of girl
that shouldn't like rainbows.
I want
The strain of reaching for an idea
That makes me feel
Everything
And losing it to some fit of sleep again
I want
Your smiles. I want the feeling that comes from some other place when you really look at me. I want stolen glances. I want fingers brushing, cheeks touching, eyes, on my lips for a moment too long. I want this version of you that I've only gotten once or twice. Funny, one memory created a universe where you are mine.
A universe.
Where I don't turn off the lights by 11. Where we drive until the road is no longer and the sky fades into the curve of your jaw and we are no longer two kids running from something terrifyingly real. Until we can both be a part of the grass that stays green until the beginning of December, of the wildflowers that eat up everything summer gives and takes so quickly. Until you close the gap between us. I'm here. I always have been.
I've only ever wanted to just sit and breathe with you. Wait until each breath becomes even and synchronized, and neither of us says anything about it. Nothing else. I don't think I'm asking for too much.
