Love is their name but it is not the name they go by. It's not on any papers, it's not what they sign their letters with, it's not what they'll introduce themselves as, but it is their name all the same. They don't know it, you don't know it, but it's still their name. Maybe you'll try and tell others that their name is love, you'll paint it on their body like it's a canvas. You'll try and stuff love into their mouths. You'll try and believe that your eyes are tinted with a shade of love they bring. Others will try and tell you that your name is love and maybe you'll believe them, maybe you'll sign letters and emails and paint pictures with love as your name, but it will never be your name. You'll find love, they'll open their mouths and their lips will form a name hundreds of miles away from love and you'll believe them, but in time each word will kiss their lips goodbye and every single whisper will sound closer and closer to the word love. In time you'll hold their hand and feel their pulse and you'll swear that it's speaking to you in Morse code, spelling out love, you'll swear that you're losing your mind but it's true. In time you'll be the one to kiss their words goodbye, you'll press your lips to theirs and the only word you're able to say whilst searching for their name is love. In time their name will become synonymous with love. In time they will become love. In time their name will be love, and you'll know because it will be your name too.

and i watch you from afar
those eyes,
those eyes
smiling that smile at my
face
i wonder if they can help it
if there is just
a part of them
that can’t resist me.
i dream on.
but they’re still there
and i swear i can feel
a hole
burning into my skin,
it makes me feel alive.
so i smile back,
and hope they have
something to tell
me

i had another one of those
dreams
last night
you know, the ones
where i live without
really living.
the ones where i’m so close
to death, it’s
questionable.
you can see my bones and
all of my secrets
and i hope you understand,
and i wonder if you have those dreams too.
surely it’s not just me.
or is it?

your fingers would tiptoe across my palms, and it made me feel alive.

the first time you touched me, i figured out what the purpose of butterflies really were.
the first time you touched me, i almost believed you were trying to create an army of them,
    that they were going to break down the maze inside my head
    that i would become some disgustingly lovesick drone

i don’t know why i ever doubted myself

the butterflies don’t visit me anymore,
they’ve done their job.

my feelings are neutralised.
my body is numb.
and you hold me like the touch of another would contaminate me.
your embrace is a cage,
but one i have built myself.

Yes but really though Darling
what even are these 'angels' that you speak of
I do not understand
why it is my hair that you say is remarkable
or the way I throw myself off of bridges
or smash bottles against the cream walls
or the ways in which I threaten to **** you
whilst in the midst of kissing you.
For if these angels you speak of were
anything like these things
then I can find no difficulty in
realising exactly why Heaven
is precisely where I need to be.