And he is sunshine.
He warms me from the inside out,
like drinking wine straight from the bottle.
He smiles and a dove coos,
He laughs and I cry.
He whispers his dreams to the stars and they play it back to me like a record on repeat,
But at night the needle scratches and all I can hear are my own whispers of I love you,
I love you,
I love him.

i like the way his beard looks when he hasnt shaved in a while.
rugged.
broken in.
but it feels like a solar flare on my cheeks and he kisses me like the world is ending.
the world is ending.
im not who i was.
all i can think about is his hand in mine and my hand on my heart.
everyone says you should see fireworks when he touches you,
but what if i see the whole ******* world exploding?
cities fall in a chorus of "he loves me, he loves me not" and i still havent figured it out yet.

the first time i got drunk i was 16 years old.
the burn of ***** in my throat reminded me of how it felt to say your name and every time i see your face i can feel the bottle against my lips.
the first time i got drunk my friends and i were camping on the beach.
i havent spoken to you in months and this is the most rebellious thing ive ever done and i was used to sharing every moment with you but this was the first significant one without you and it felt amazing, so i took 6 more shots and threw up the last words you ever spoke to me.
the first time i got drunk my friends asked me to share my biggest secret.
what was i supposed to say?
that i havent spoken to you in ten months but i can still picture the way your mouth moved when you said my name?
how the box of cranberitas smelt exactly like your breath that one fourth of july i would do anything to forget?
or how about the fact that i don't miss you any more and i don't know whether to be relieved or terrified?
instead i told them that i liked to watch ****.
now i'm seventeen and i haven't been drunk since but your name still burns my throat like *****.

you were never just flesh and bones to me.
you were snaggle toothed pumpkins on halloween and socks at the foot of my bed.
and it used to be hard to unlearn you but now your secrets are unraveling and leaving me threadbare.
and i never knew the way my lips were shaped when they weren't crying out your name but now my cupid's bow sits high and i cant even remember how many syllables your lips have anymore.
and i found it funny then, how the hurricane hit on the anniversary of you leaving, but then again i figured it was just your soul trying to claw it's way back to me.
but shutters were made for a reason, and you never did know the difference between "enough", and "not nearly enough".
sometimes i get flashbacks of the way i made you laugh but then i make myself laugh harder and realize that even though you left,
left when all i had was you,
i am still ivy on a tin roof, stardust in a bottle and you,
you are flesh and bone.

you are city buses
and rain slicked streets.
and your neon heart pulses a mile a minute
but i have never seen someone so captivating.
youre an old apartment
with concrete walls
and sometimes in the winter the cold creeps in
but you never know whether to smother it with blankets or to leave.
youre midmorning traffic jams
but instead of anger you accept it and you sit in the car and you soak up life like a wildflower and ive never wanted to be the sun more.

i was never fond of grand gestures
until i had you looking at me from under your eyelashes
and for something that seems so insignificant, it left me aching for something i never even knew i craved.
but i do
i crave it like i crave your hands on my spine and my hands on your lips.
i crave it like i crave foggy mornings with my hand in yours and coffee in the kitchen and the promise of you
still
being there.
i was always warned of pretty boys with knobby knees and spidery fingers
but i was never one to flinch away from marble smiles
the coolness refreshing on my overheated cheeks that can only come from the rush of affection that the constellations inside of you impressed upon me.
your elbows sprouting daisies and i would want nothing more than to weave them into my hair but you arent a garden and the soul living inside of you is too big for your body and instead of withering it spindles out and it wraps around me and i am so
thankful.

you were always equivalent to the sun on my shoulders but now you feel like the autumn air in between my fingers. i never let myself feel how to let go and now i feel my fingers winding around your wrist and i can tell you want to leave but i cant lose another piece of me. your eyes always felt like home but now someone turned the porch light off and ive never felt so unwelcome before. i dont know how to ask you to stay especially when i know you want to leave and my soul is sinking but i cant even bring my legs to kick to the surface anymore.