This sweet old lady Margaret, sat across from me on a bench in the garden and I thought that it would be simply wonderful to grow old with you.

Today we went outside for a BBQ.
I thought of you the whole time.
I was very anxious so I sat in the garden, away from everyone else.
I looked for a flower that could match your beauty, but darling, no flower is as beautiful as you are.

Child. When I fall - I crash.
I am a hopeless romantic.
You set me racing through the atmosphere like a ******* asteroid and soon I am bound to hit the ground.
Boom! Fireworks!
Dust of our poems like the sweat of our bodies melting into one and lifting up to the stars above.
Except child, the stars will never manage to match the brightness with which we shine.
A spark, a supernova being born when our hands touch.
I am scared to imagine what will happen when our lips touch…
‘cause child…
Big Bang itself would not amount to the explosion of passion that our kiss will produce.
So darling, in short, I am being drawn to you, like in to a black hole
and oh darling…
I don’t intend to resist it.

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She is a fallen angel.
The weight of life has dragged her down from heavens.
Her mind is dark like the closet she’s been hiding her magic in.

She cut her wings down to stubs
And left dark burgundy marks on her skin - a thousand scars.

Now she sits on the bed in a psych ward, looking out the window.
A window that’s locked (she checked)
A prison disguised as a healing place.

They keep her inside, when she’s been born to fly.
She wants to ascend back to heaven,
But they won’t let her die.

I want you to pull me into you,
Leaving no space between us.
I want you to move my hair to the side and breathe goose bumps on to my neck.
One single touch from you is all I need.
Oh how I wish you were here.

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