I'd write crappy poetry about you, darling. I'd write about how your soul is as wild and free like the ocean. And how you are more beautiful than a thousand sunsets burning with love for me. You are the universe wrapped under skin and bone. And I'd set pen to paper for those baby blues that whispers secrets about the cosmos to the moon who is the only one worth telling secrets too. And how your laugh erupts volcanoes and starts wars and creates thunderstorms and causes the stars to rip themselves open for you. BANG! You are the explosion that formed the galaxy. The universe screams of your name to remind the finite life forms that it is your signature at the bottom of this masterpiece. I'd write about how whenever your teeth decides to greet the earth behind the barricade of rose-colored lips is when the sun blows a fuse (HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM) and suddenly you are the only source of light in the eminent darkness that I can not even peek mud filled eyes at without you fucking blinding me. I'd waste ink on your heart that within lies a supernova that explodes with each beat only to form again within each rest. The constellations wouldn't be complete without your existence. You planted seeds in my head that blossomed into planets that only orbit around you.
I'd write crappy poetry about you, darling.
A/n just wanted to add to the collection of my crappy attempts at poetry.
