Hey,
I'm the werewolf you saw in the forest
and I think I'm in love with you
like the moon, I'm entranced by you, intoxicated with your light
you are freedom
(you are everything I want and everything I can't have)
I hear you singing in the woods sometimes,
I know I could never sing that well
only guttural howls compared to your angelic songs
and I've heard you talking in the forest
(you thought you were alone; you couldn't stop crying)
I just want to whisper to you
"everything will be okay"
(just ignore the fangs I won't hurt you)
regardless of how truthful it is
you were afraid the last time you saw me
(I could tell)
I felt ashamed, but I can't really blame you
after all, I'm just your average "girl-who-turns-into-a-hulking-dog-creature"
but I'd really like to truly meet you,
human girl to human girl
I'm sorry this is so sudden
and if I come off as creepy or weird or rude
(I was raised by wolves after all)
but I just need to see you again,
I think I'm in love with you

I'm telling you:
         There must be a way out of here.
I love you with burnt fingertips, with chewed off nails and worrying frowns asking if maybe maybe maybe you could come and fix me.
Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever make it back home.

There's not much I can give you besides twelve suicide attempts and a scarred body.
Flowers don't grow near me. Flowers don't grow in me.
I've never been good with words, but you are a case unsolved, you are stubble-burn on sunday mornings.

Most days I am certain I could love you to ruins.
Most days my skin is too tight for me to move, most days my lungs don't accept oxygen, most days my eyes don't know how to stay closed and
I keep seeing things I don't want to see.
Most days I wonder when I stopped being a city and became an exit wound.

a wishlist ten feet long that says 'make me feel love
make me kiss someone and like it'
but its a bit of a catastrophe and its not gonna just right itself
stars dont care if i shine the same way-
do they?
but no ones got the answer
or they do, a thousand
just have to find myself in the sea of intricate possibilities
(or the river of one- they never say)
yet im not there anymore-
am i?
reborn as a storm id say
there is nothing wrong with the way i dont feel
(they wont believe me; the weatherman says the storm was yesterday)
cut open my heart and youll find
a thousand swirling stars evading constellations
a galaxy of planets revolving around themselves
im a larger than life,
im an immortal-
are you?

i'm dreaming i'm holding hands with the most important girl
writing letters with my palms giving her the anticipation she needs for eternity
scribbled with hopes and promises describing how it'll pass
how she deserves so much more than what her world has to offer
stories upon stories on how she strives and strives again
even if she trips over life's constant cracks

she believes there's nothing here for her
but i am here for you
and you'll never leave
and we'll be okay

darling, i am you and i know it's hard to see the progress your entwining fingers with
it's hard to see the future which is impossible to predict
and that statement is true because all you anticipated was the word shrinking its portions of happiness until you starved to permanent sadness

but what you don't know is that
achievement is near
and you exist

and i'll mail these words to the me i wish i could've spoken to

Please stop with all your leaving. I'm scared of all your constant moving on. I never said anything about the way you tried to find God between my temples but today is the day you stop mourning me because, darling, I'm not even dead yet. And I know you feed on me, I know you've never done anything else than believing you're not good enough, humble humble boy, but I can tell you that the fires you started will do more damage than you anticipated.
I'm more than okay with that. I wrote you a letter once or twice saying that should I not **** myself I would gladly be killed by you. When you talk, sometimes I wish I was deaf so I'd have a reason to study your lips. You have no idea how your touch feels.
I never asked you about the things you talk about in your sleep. I never asked you about the pleas for fire.
In the end, I'll still be the match that didn't light and I don't know where you will be.
Tell me all of your fears. I'm only scared of you. Of you never loving me like this. Never like this.