Stuck in bed once again,
A shame to say the least, but I,
always wake up to good company,
the love of my life.
Like a needle in the vain,
sometimes a small quick pain.
But long term, my love belongs to her.
How I could meet someone to feel,
not only this way about or this comfortable
with.

The teenage struggle of no eye contact,
disappeared.
******* seeming like a chore more then a pleasure,
gone.
The sincere textures in this relationship,
weave a Mac Demarco tee which like my relationship,
I hope not to lose or misplace.

She owns my heart, she is my blood.
She knows she's smart,
My brains filled with sludge.

As every other morning,
I wake up to A hug, a kiss.
Affection yearned since an extreme loss.
Supplied by a girl whom breathes my
personal bliss.