Tears, anger, sadness,
they just want to
be
alive
too.

"Please don't leave me."

One of, no, the few truthful words that will softly & slowly pull your mind into ragged edges and creases, like a promise.

For, it is those silent words finally speaking aloud.

It is the confession that has etched onto the inner wrists,
all of those midnight,
                                         2am,          then
                                              ­                             11am thoughts.
I can breath.
Just slightly, sure, oxyegn does fill my cells. Perfectly. Carbon dioxides escapes through my raw lips. In & out, easy.

My heart works just fine.
It falters now and again.

My damp fingertips are intact, despite the tears.

My soul is not.

But, I still want you

                                       here.

You kind of make my cheekbones hurt
from
all that midnight laughter
and
the little rhapsodic notes escaping
from
my
lips.

Such
a
lovely
hurt
has
never
tiptoed, danced
&
flicked
across
my
chest.

Whilst we had that pavlova frosting on our lips and noses,
I had a Pavlovian reaction that made me gasp.

I like you.
I fancy this gorgeous, wide-eyed, laughing boy
who has the kind of notes in his laugh that makes me fundamentally
agree
with the very fact,
it is okay to laugh at myself.

This utterly imperfect being looking like he does not give a ****
is
colouring
my soul
yellow.

And my lips could never say more Thank you s onto the Cupid's bow of his lips.

For, he taught me how to be happy by myself, with only my shadow in sunlight.

To colour in the blank edges of soul with something a little gorgeous and a pinch of something rather

*different.

"You can fall in love with some-

someone. The word him bubbles into my mind.

thing, more than once."

I say, cheeks crimson and with suddenly shy fingertips.

And with my hesitance bleeding into the air,
he raised his left eyebrow,
followed
by
the slightest flicker of a smile on his lips.