Today has been grey and I've spent most of my time asleep. I lack the ability to feel something slightly; this causes discomfort and pain- yes but, this means I have felt every sunset, every time your fingertips brushed my skin I have felt it. I have felt your body rise up and down as you pulled the pillow to cover your head, I have felt you laugh, I have felt your fingers create bubbles in the soapy water that is my skin. I have felt you pull my hair in passion, I have felt you raise your voice in rage, I have felt your heavy heart and I have felt your loose-fitting tight-knit love that covers me. There are days my imperfections leave streak marks on the mirror and a mess in the kitchen, but then there are the days my imperfections make you laugh and stare, because I am my imperfections and you love me.

You leaned me back as we danced at 2am in my kitchen.
You held your head back, as my eyes held yours, and my hands held you. This medicine keeps me calm and breathing easy. The lighter and the glass pipe on my windowsill make me enjoy the freezing mornings, and you darling make music notes run through my veins, and they make me shake.

We drove up through the fog on Jackson Mountain, the music carried the silence with a melodic tune that made it almost seem sweet; it was quiet and loud at the same time. "You want a cigarette?" he asks, interrupting the flow of thought through my stormy mind. I silently take the cigarette from him and put it in my mouth, the cigarette filter touching my lips when I wish it were him instead. I pull out my lighter, a blue and yellow flame assistant making my lungs black. He could never really read my handwriting, and he could never really make up his mind. He never read my journals and he hardly ever touched my face. He slept till 4 in the afternoon and threw the pillows over his head if he was disturbed. He hasn't traveled and he doesn't like tattoos. Him. That sounded so sweet just hours before now ****** my tongue to bleed. my love has turned to resentment and everything he does now has lost its glow, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes don't shout laughter anymore, his curly hair is just a mess now, and his eyes once a beautiful sky blue are just a dusty old ball kicked around in bare feet... But still here I am with you driving through the fog on Jackson Mountain.

You make my head feel like I've been pounding it against a concrete wall, how many hands do I need to count the number of people I share you with? You make my hands shake, you make my heart race like a train, you're the conductor and we're derailing from the tracks as we speak.

Accepting the fact that this isn't love just appreciation honestly kills me. You say I'm your sunset, but I'm really just your breath when it's cold out.

I once was in love with a boy who smoked cigarettes, he had his own car and two jobs, and his hair was almost always a mess. He didn't really like breakfast and he over drank all the time but said he was fine. His diet was mostly fast food, I was sure beer and fry grease ran through his veins. He never understood why I cried and never understood why I kissed him so much.

I don't know if it was your kisses, or your hands on my bare skin, but I feel these butterflies in my stomach and I've never felt anything more pleasant than your lips on mine. That rush, that breath, that look; my God my knees are weak. Thinking of the future absolutely scares me... maybe you'll fall in love with a girl while you're away at college, but all that matters to me now is this moment and you. You, you, you. Where you'll be when you're 47 doesn't concern me right now- I have you, and you my darling make me smile. I don't know what this feeling is but I know it's from you; you're the clouds that bring the rain, your kisses, your hugs, your laugh, your smile make me feel covered in petals. I enjoy you, I enjoy your laugh, and your smile, I enjoy every touch, every thing you do to me makes me feel so much. You are my favorite thing, my God I want to dance with you.