Don't you leave now,
I'm impatient,
Not a patient in this ward.
Where's my mother?
I feel smothered,
"Not another word from you."
Undeveloped,
I'm enveloped,
Folded in a hazel haze.
A prism prison
Built precision,
Predicated without trust.
My orphan organs
Will demand
Vital signs,
And vitamins.
Leer from your chest,
Scream with my eye,
"Let me in."
"Let me in."
"Let me in."

So clean and
Oblique in stature.
Quiet as a pulse.

You're fluent in burns,
The way planets are fluent
In flight.
Not like birds,
Like cherubs.

The whipped dark marble,
Like metal butter,
Splashes a gate
Between us and
The garden maze.

Everyone is distracted by mundane, shallow things that they forget a bigger picture thats in all aspects of life.
******* Clash of Clans and MTV.
But maybe I'm the shallow one because I put the blame on such a stupid topic.

I can't name or count how many guys I've looked at approvingly thinking 'I'd love to **** him' or whatever people say when they give that approving eye glance and nod thing. Of course I do it. All the time. I'm eighteen for gods sake. I can look!

However,

I can count all the guys I've genuinely fancied on both hands.

I can count the guys I've really liked on one hand.

I can count the guys I've kissed on *******.

I can count the guys I've actually called my boyfriend on one finger.

But that is not the man I love.

None of them are.

Because he's not a statistic.

He's a part of my soul.

I cannot stop writing about you. Every little thing I can remember, I've written it down.
I've written you down.
A permanent stain on these sheets.