i could write a hundred poem about your sad brown eyes and i could compare the sight of you to an awaited sunrise after a lonely night and i could tell you that i love you more than the wolves love full moons or gods could ever love their creations but—

i can’t.

you doom me into speechlessness with a simple smile. i’m as putty as clay and as vulnerable as a petal and as weak as a child every time you do as much as touch the back of my hand with yours. so yeah, i can’t. i can’t recite you poetry or beg you to love me but—

i’m yours.

i’m all yours and you know it and that’s all what truly matters.

i hope i’m not asking for a lot but

please forget about the world
and how much it hurts and owes you,
and all the issues that worry your mind,
and the things you need to do,

and kiss me with all what you have
as if it’s the only thing you know how to do,
as if it’s the only thing on your mind,
as if you’re dying to.

help me stop
wanting to
be more than
what i am
meant to be.