You are an oasis of rivers
in a barren desert,
The last signs of life,
The remains of a comet
Evaporated in the sun.
You are shattered cords
And spilled ink,
Gloriously painted across broken wires
Split at the seams,
But still breathing.
You are breathing.
So learn to love it.

You say you're not good at art
but I've seen you create things
on your hardest days
and it's a masterpiece
knowing that the world is still so bright to you
Even at its darkest
And you are darling in the way
That you try to pick something
You love about yourself each day
Because you know great artworks
Aren't always beautiful as a whole

My biggest fear
Is that I'll wake up in 10 years
And still miss you

I hope every cigarette you place between your lips knows how lucky it is to be there,
I hope every bottle you grab a hold of falls in love with the warmth of your finger tips; I know I did.

What I am trying to say is,
I am well aware that it matters not whether I am with or without you;
I will keep moving,
but I much prefer your limbs with my limbs,
and I enjoy the tragedy you think makes you unable to be loved,
and I'm sorry I didn't touch you a little bit longer,
and when you're here I feel it,
and when you're not I feel it too.

by : Alexandra Crawford