How could you possibly think you're anything less than perfect when
parts of the universe are inside of you?

The most **** thing about a guy has nothing to do with his clothes, hair or eye colour.

It's in the way he looks at you with longing, when you finally find out he wants you just as badly as you want him.

When he pulls you so close to him that there is literally no space between you, because he can't stand the thought of there being any.      

When he kisses you, so that it feels as if he is stealing the air from your lungs, and for those few seconds you forget what air even is.
    
When all thoughts go out the window and its just him, with you,in the most simple way possible.

Now that is the definition of ****.

I am afraid,
in a way I haven't been before.

I am afraid
of the way people fall out of the sky,

I am afraid
of the way people disappear into the sea

without saying goodbye;
Suddenly the loss
feels like a snake

slithering from across the room;
venom in his blood
and names on his tongue.

I am afraid
of the way people find themselves
at the bottom of the barrel.

And I
am scraping
at the end of it.