I just want to know you're **mine.

If, just to be safe.
When, for things that are certain.

It's been eons (no, days) since I described to her how much I love you, how much you mean to me.
It's been forever (no, maybe a week) since I told her I think I'm in love with you.

You don't even have to say anything, I'm content with your breathing,
because sometimes it still sounds like hope.
I could trace the fissures in your bones and count the stars in your eyes and I still wouldn't believe an earthquake like you brought me so close to home.
I want to lie by your side and take dumb pictures that will only show my face because you're too embarrassed to show yours and I'm too proud to not show you off.

I think your kisses probably taste like forever.

Writing isn't really my thing.

It never has been and I don't think it ever will be.

But god **** I could write a book about all the things I love about you.

I don't know which seems further-
the distance in miles, or months?

You're so far away,
and it might seem cliche,
but I'll walk to you if I have to
if it means that you're okay-
and,
three years isn't that bad, right?
If I just keep talking to you at night
it'll be easy to pretend that
maybe we're both doing alright...

You know, you mean the world to me.
I don't even have to try to rhyme for you anymore
(seriously, those were accidents),
it just comes pouring out.
I can't wait for the day that I can kiss you and say,
"Hey, bb. We made it."

I think I've fallen already,
because I keep waiting for you to pull away,
and just the thought of that has me crippled.

We found each other in the crevices of our hearts.