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.