when he tells me to stop i suppose i have to but he does not control me! not in any way does that boy control a **** thing about me
only my heart, as if i would listen to it anyway
when he yells he does so in whispers, murmurs when he's ecstatic his world explodes with sound so i know when he's quiet that's when i've ****** up
and oh, i consistently **** up
i hate him i love him i detest him i adore him then the day ends by the moonlight and begins anew with the rising sun
i always love him by the time my head crashes against the pillow
his music my words his portraits my photographs his father my sister
his heart, my heart, our hearts are basically the same *****
his words my songs his photographs my art his history my father
his world, my world, our world is all our own, all alone
his laugh is magic his logic is constantly flawed his voice throws me off balance and his attitude enrages me god, do i love him *******, do i hate him
adore, detest, treasure, loathe, who cares? it's all ours