You are my galaxy
And these freckles are
the only constellations
I want to explore

I'm not too good at opening up to people; but I have made a home in you: the crease underneath your shoulder is the only pillow I think I'll ever need, your eyes are the windows in which I wish to see the world through, and the rumble of your laughter is an earthquake that cannot tear these foundations to the ground. Like the weeds in the garden, I am rooted to you. I hope you never dig me out.

They say that love
is blind, and I agree.
Because I do not need to be blessed
with sight, to see that I am
blessed with you

You prefer storms over
the sun and I think
that’s why you chose me
over everyone else

You are the foundations
that keep me safe

You are my little
white picket gate

You are home.

I’m sorry, I don't mean
to flinch - it's just… his hands
never had such a sweet touch
like yours. And please don't stop singing sweet
nothing's, for I am so used to
'you're nothing's

I am most frightened of those
who do not wear
their flaws on their sleeves
but,
around their necks.
They remind me too much
of myself.