the smoke you inhale must stay inside you,
for when you touch me
i can feel the embers of my soul flame,
and burn so brightly.
your fingers leave not finger prints,
but scorch marks.
light me up
and breathe you in.

“When I say, ‘I love you,’ it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You’re a heck of a person.”

god damn.
how are you real.
how is this real?
i get to call you mine,
and even better
i get to be yours.
all yours.
all of me.
my heart, my body,
my stupid smile i can't wipe off my fucking face.
all yours.
for now, anyways.
{the pessimist in me says}
but for once i'm the giggling optimist,
with bright eyes and a heart bubbling and bursting at the seams.
i still feel like this isn't really happening,
like it's some sort of hallucination i've just placed myself into.
i'll keep reminding myself its not,
that those brown eyes of yours really shine like that,
for me,
and i'm not daydreaming.
it's real.
god damn.

you caught me,
pen in hand.
curled in your blankets, surrounded by your presence,
stealing away in a moment of solitude to write my heart to you.
you caught me,
with words of you spilling onto a page.
you caught me but i didn't feel arrested.
no bubbling panic, no sheepish words of evasion.
we both shared a look, and we knew.
we smiled, and you left.
you've read those words now,
and tomorrow we share words.
words about words, and words for words.
my tongue will betray me,
and your eyes will steal the words from my lips,
i will be dismantled and disarmed,
stripped of my greatest weapon,
i will try to string my thoughts into coherent babble.
our dance of evasion and pretend will end,
and we will stand together in the awkward silence between changing songs.
will you catch me,
for the next song?
will you catch me before my fear gets the better of me,
and sends me running?
i want to be caught by you.

i don’t expect much,

and i don’t ask for guarantees.

mostly because i fear both, 

i fear what they mean and what they entail

and i fear the weight they carry.

i won’t ask for guarantees,

although the thought of doing so is slowly

ever so slowly,

creeping into my mind,

and edging it’s way closer off my tongue.

i won’t ask,

in a destructively selfish way..

i fear asking for a guarantee of some sort might push you away.

and selfishly, 

destructively so,

i can’t let you go,

and i can’t ask you to stay 

because i’m too scared

you might say no. 

" i pressed my nose up to the glass around your heart;
i shoulda known that i was weaker from the start. "

i don't know what to fucking write about you.
this is the third,
or forth,
hell;
maybe even the fifth or sixth time i've tried to spread out my feelings about you.
every time it's a white screen,
with a flashing black line telling me:
write. write. write.
but i can't,
can't,
can't.
again, i'm left with too many thoughts in my head,
i can't decipher one thought from another,
and certainly not long enough to know what to say.
so i'll leave it at this, i suppose.
you are something else entirely,
something that takes the very words out of a writers mouth,
stealing the phrases and sentences i want to string together.
you have left me speechless, breathless, and now wordless.
what am i without words, i don't know.
what am i with you, i don't know.