he said
you are so gorgeous in the way
you write yourself on paper,
i've never met anyone
to paint with words.
he said
the birds sing your praises
in the early morning sun,
the dew still heavy on blades of grass.
he said
i have never seen such beauty
grace my irises of green,
never known the word perfect
until i told him my name.
he said
you
        are
                my
                        universe.

i am in a haze today. it is cloudy and beautiful outside. it is also pressing down on my chest and i struggle for air. i wore your shirt to bed last night and it helped steady my oxygen supply. i wish you were here to say my name and speak to me in my native tongue to remind who i am and where i've come from. i'm forgetting everything, slowly. recreating yourself is only good when you haven't done it five thousand times over. i just want to be me now. but how do i become me if there is no you? pick me up from the library and walk me to class. hold my hand and tell me that you will stay with me no matter how grey the sky is or how cold my fingers feel.

she smiled in a jubilee of lights telling me we were going to be okay, like she was absolutely sure of it almost as much as she was sure of her own happiness. i wasn't sure of my own, but i knew she made me happy so i shined as well.

Because in the end,
you'll be another broken heart
that I mended with my own.
We trade pieces of us, you see,
but I found more love from people
who also try to mend me
as I mend them.