Dear February,
I can't wait until the day I roll over at 3am in bed to meet your lips instead of a text. Our time is limited on this earth, and there is no one else I could ever imagine spending it with. You are a poem that breathes February. I love you. Being intoxicated by our love is the most blissful feeling. When I met you I was taken back just by your presence. You are the type of girl that people smile with and they take for granted. To me, I don't take you for granted. I hold you tight everytime I see you, just to let you know I'm here. I need you. You are the one who sits with me on the rooftop, at three am, telling me your favorite songs, what you did that day, and holding my hand tight, because you know I need something to cling onto in this sick world. You make my world brighter. You hug me and whisper beautiful poetic words in my ear. You are slowly fixing this crumpled and tangled mess called my soul. One day I will wake up and roll over to kiss your lips at three am, and call you the love of my life, because you are and always will be.
Always,
Pierce
YOU ARE READING
3am
Short Story"It's 3am and all I want is your lips on mine. It's the same as yesterday at 7pm, or Thursday at noon. It's the same as every hour, every minute, every second since I met you." #26 in Short Story.
