I think I could get used to waking up beside you,
and following the catlike curve of that smile
on your celestial canvas
with a trembling brush.
I could paint you in the evenings,
and watch as you colored the world with
such a vibrant palette of a voice
and explained to me the things you love
with the most vivid of words.

Strip the flesh from my bones
and make from it a carpet
to better walk all over me.
Craft from my skeleton
a little cage for birds
and allow them to assist in your
defilement of me.
Feed my organs to the Lion
so that I might keep Him at bay
and allow for your further escape.
Bury my soul amongst the stars
and I can water your garden with my tears
(I've always wanted to give you life).
Cast my memories aside
and fill my mind with your own,
because my thoughts should be about you, anyway.

She makes me laugh in the way nobody else can.
She makes me smile in a world full of familiar frowns and furrowed brows.
She makes me roll my eyes in a way that seems too playful to be genuine.
I think she loves me,
and maybe that isn't so bad.

She makes me feel at home when I have nowhere to go.
She keeps me warm when even my fortress of blankets stands no chance against the cold.
She makes me sigh in such a way that even I can't tell what emotion I'm feeling.
I know she loves me,
and maybe that isn't so bad.

She is five-foot-three,
with an odd crop of brown hair
and a catlike grin
that forces her to smile when she doesn't want to.

She is fourteen (fifteen in thirty-seven- no, thirty-six days),
and makes me think that age might really be
just a number,
because she carries herself
with all the wisdom and remorse
of someone much older than me.

She is perfect
in the most imperfect of ways,
and her dry humor and quirky attitude
can keep me smiling all day.

She is everything I never asked for,
but
She is everything I've ever wanted.

You can breathe tonight.
Let no effort bring itself to your tired bones.
I will hold you, until the end,
and no demons will break through to
your porcelain soul.

Let sleep wrap you in its wings.
Dance with me in the stars.
Tonight you are alive,
and you will be tomorrow, too,
and that is glorious,
because this cramped universe
is pure emptiness without you.

Let it be noted, that,
I am one who seldom seeks the presence of another being.
Fortunately,
you are no other being
(I believe you are a part of me).

Tomorrow, you will live on,
and I might not,
and that's alright,
but,
let it be noted, that,
you can still breathe.