you're like a tiny planet,
so foreign to my touch.
you showed me worlds
that i didn't think existed.
we stood side by side,
and ached to reach out.
you were the astronaut,
and my body was space.
you explored deep within,
curious of the vacant body.
and i let you travel my veins
all the way to my shuffled brain.
i loved you from the apogee of your head,
to the undersides of your toes.
i swear i was born to meet you,
as i plucked you from the garden.
out of a thousand beautiful roses,
i picked the wilted daisy from the bunch.
because even with your imperfections,
to me, you were the most flawless.
and i'm glad to be your water that helps you grow.

There is no rhyme or no reason,
just you and I right now.
Twenty six letters - thousands of words,
and none of them even begin to describe how I feel for you.
You know me, and you know where to find me,
in the spaces between words,
in between the lines; the little places.
And I know where to find you,
in between breathy words and in all the flowers I pass by.
I like to stay small; compact; invisible.
And you, to me, you're bright; visible; eye-catching.
Every time I look at you, it's like the very first.
And I'd like my breath back, please.
So many words I could use, but they don't paint your picture.
You're my sunshine on a cloudy day.
Your voice simply keeps me on edge.
Your hands are like magic as they travel my body.
I don't know what I would do without you.
You've been my starry-eyed boy for days.
For weeks.
Months.
Years.
No one has replaced you; it's you - it's always been you.
And please don't mind when I grab your hand,
or look into your eyes, or curl into you.
You comfort me.
You make me the happiest I've ever been.
Your smile makes my heart ache.
Your hands make my head race.
Your eyes, your **** eyes, make me crazy.
I could go on about you.
For hours.
Days.
About how your eyes are the colour of the ocean at midday.
Or the way your arms tighten around me so I don't go.
Or how your hand automatically finds mine.
I could go on about how in a crowded place,
you're the first person I look for.
Or how when something smells faintly of you,
I feel an aching pain when I realize you're not around.
But there's not enough words,
not enough time,
to express my love for you.
So I'll try my best to show you everyday that you're loved,
that you're appreciated,
that I wouldn't rather have anyone else but you.

My baby looked my way today,
he wasn't looking at me, I'm sure.
I just wished he'd lock eyes with me,
when his mouth is on hers.
I want him to know I'm still here,
and I'm not sure how to go.
And if he tires of me now,
then I'll leave him tomorrow.
I'm sure if you've seen him around,
you know that he's mine.
She might claim him to be hers,
but she's wrong, and that's fine.
I don't know why my heart weeps,
although it's been over a year.
In the middle of the night when I rest,
his voice is the only thing I hear.
So, baby, please come home to me,
I didn't mean to do any wrong.
I wrote you a thousand and one poems,
I even composed you a stupid love song.
Don't tell me that it's over,
and that we're just friends now.
Why do you have to do this to me,
why does it hurt me right now?
I wish to kiss you once more,
right on your satin lips.
And it could be just like before,
with your hands pressed to my hips.
So pack up your things,
and come running back to me.
And we can resume where we left off,
where you and I were we.

You should never fall in love with a writer,
unless you're ready to.
Because what they do is,
they write about you.
About loving you whole;
flaws and all.
About kissing your neck,
no matter if you're tall.
They'll write how your skin feels,
and the butterflies within.
They'll write the tales of you,
and the scars on your skin.
They'll write about you,
like you've never seen before.
Because when a writer loves you,
they love your every pore.
So only love a writer,
when you're ready to see,
the things about yourself,
that you didn't want to believe.

Somber eyes.
Cool blue.
Always looking.
But not at you.
Pay attention.
You want to.
But this is something.
You cannot do.
I want to love.
Only you.
But thing is.
Do you want me to.
I'm in love.
With just you.
Please don't leave.
Like they all do.

The alarm wakes me up,
and the sun shines through,
and my hands search around,
so I can fill myself with you.
When the sun goes down,
and the moon is painted gray,
I breathe in your sweetness,
and forget what to say.
When the stars align the sky,
and the animals come play,
I wrap my arms around you,
in hopes that you'd stay.
When you lay your head to rest,
and I lay my head down too,
the whole world is sleeping,
you know my whole world is you.
In the morning when the sun rises,
and the rays are peaking through,
I fill your face with kisses,
and the memories of you.

I'm getting bad again,
I see things that aren't there.
Did I hear the door creak?
Is there something on the stair?
A rustle on the window,
it's a murderer, I swear!
Did you not see someone in the mirror,
this isn't all that fair!
They told me to take pills,
they're magical, they say.
But they make me tired and sad,
but we continue to pay.
Even with these pills,
I see things that I should not.
Did I see a ghost walk by?
Did something move that ***?
My anxiety is rising,
I don't know what to do.
I seek comfort in my duvet,
but they seek comfort there too.