i want to hold your hand through all the season changes; autumn to summer, making chains out of daises and i want you to know that love is probably my biggest fear
but you make me love with open arms
and as deep as outstretched oceans, grabbing hold of you with both palms and as violently as nuclear bomb explosions
i'll keep that fruitful heart of yours safe within my clutch because i know that mine is safe with you and your gentle benevolent touch

you make me remember why life is a joy rather than a burden and when my life draws its final curtains,
your face is the last i want to see
and i'm certain one day it'll all get a lot easier, the sky will be bluer and the breeze will be breezier,
and i'm certain until then we'll guide each other through because there's no one i'd rather be in life's ruthless grasp with than you

they say death is the only constant, i disagree

death is no match for you and me

i've lived for eighteen years
some babies don't make it to eighteen minutes
and it's sad when you wish you were
the baby who didn't
the baby who didn't get to experience
life and what it's like to live
and your feeble attempt at living
is an accurate portrayal of what it means to
exist and it's sad when you wish you were
the baby who didn't make it to four-years-old
so you never experienced the joy
of a park on an early summers morning where
your only worry was how high you could
go and beating your best friend so you
could be "champion" and as you get older
you realise a champion is someone who
suffers but manages to maintain a healthy,
positive mindset and being a champion at
four-years-old means nothing when your
mere existence is an accurate portrait of
failure. people say nightmares scare you,
if so i'd class life as a nightmare. it's sad when
you wish you were the child who didn't make it
to junior school, when you wish that you didn't
make it to the high school prom because then
you'd never have to realise that no one
wants to hold your hand and slow dance with you
no one tells you you look beautiful in a dress
you paid too much for just to feel uncomfortable
for the entire night. it's sad when you get to
eighteen and you realise that there's so much
more to life but you don't want to be alive to
witness it and if a baby who didn't make it to
eighteen minutes can leave the world gracefully,
then so can you.

there is one truth of which i'm incandescently certain and that's that nobody can take away a truth as it darkens, a galaxy in a glass; and the truth is that i'd be the only ***** donor in a charity just for you because signals and signs have showed me your soul and you're grander than celestial poles

if i didn't know any better i'd suggest you're the sun and i'm the solar system and i orbit around you and i'm not too sure about humans having wings but imagine:

a snowy cabin some place away from civilisation, you and i and wholehearted communication, you and i and books and fictional integration, you and i and mind blowing realisations, you and i and wings outstretched souring across nations

you are the sun and i am the solar system and although i orbit you i'm never allowed to brush the surface, i'm guessing it's for a purpose so i admire from afar, a gaze stretched over constellations and the sound of your voice bouncing off stars into my hemisphere of tangled webs and ripened tears, the echoing trailing behind merely a souvenir

there is one truth of which i'm incandescently certain and that's this:

the only reason my brain hasn't stopped my heart from beating is because the thoughts of you are giving it meaning and it's hard to breathe with these overwhelming feelings but i'm coping because the broken glass holding my galaxy is healing