She felt like being touched by God.
Maybe that's why I crave the strike of lightning, the closest feel of her fingers gracing my skin. Clouds flood her head full of rain that flush any thought I me down her never ending gutters.
She was always a storm, and I've always loved the rain.

You hear a lot about love when you're a kid but they fail to prepare you for it.
They don't tell you that breaking yourself down into the size of sand grains because you fell in love with an empty hour glass and wanted to be the only thing keeping her time wouldn't be enough to make her stay.


Now You're scattered across the floor trying to find their warning.

They dipped my bones in patience  and lathered my skin with strength as God said "She's gunna need it".
I was made for you.