This is an open letter to anyone who feels the need to share their poetry with me
This is an open letter for anyone who wants to bury their face in an endless succession of books with me
This is an open letter to anyone who will listen to records with me at 2 A.M.
Someone who will buy me coffee with a bit of sugar, but more creamer
This is an open letter to anyone who wants to watch the cars go by with me
Someone who will warm up my heart with cups of soup and soft blankets
This is an open letter to anyone who has the audacity to love me for myself
Someone who will not shout and hold my wrists down when I cut my hair too short
This is an open letter to the adventures, the game changers.
I need truthfulness.
I need laughter.
I need someone to fill up the empty cracks in the delves of my palms.
I want silly candids in the city.
I crave long nights spent driving around, staring at flashing streetlights on an abandoned road.
I want postcards sent from everywhere you've ever stopped and missed the tone of my voice and my unsettling hands.
An open letter to those who collect seashells, like a ******* addiction.
To those who love thunderstorms as much as I do, and would much rather hide in the rain than bask in the sun.
Rain is for us, you know.
To those who will dazzle me with their immense vocabulary.
Those who will capture my attention like sharp swords catch the edge of fabric on your right shoulder.
Those who want to stay up until the sun peaks up from behind the tall mountains and wraps words around my skin in the early hours of dawn.
The ones who whisper sweet nothings on the phone with me until I drift off to sleep
An invitation to those who kiss with their eyes closed and imagine the days and nights passing between our lips.
To those who believe lightning is just God taking pictures of us, he wants to see how you're doing.
This is an open letter to those who live to write and write to live.
To those who thrive on the emotions behind paintings and live to see their fingers swell.
This is an invite to anyone who isn't afraid to become messy with me
To dance in our underwear while we paint fresh daisies on the apartment walls
To those who aren't afraid to eat Popsicles with me on the kitchen floor.
To those who help me find endings in places I need to place a period.
This is an open invite to anyone who is willing to light off fireworks with me on the courthouse lawn.
A careful boy with thick brown hair
And sea green eyes
Freckles and thick framed glasses
A boy who isn't afraid to get his hands *****
A nightowl
A poet
He carries a brief case around and calls me darling.
His favorite thing is big spoon
And his inspirations come from me
He's never lied to me once
He doesn't like sports, but sometimes he can go for a game of soccer
He always takes photos of me when I'm not looking and he collects them like the way he collects metaphors
He wants to be wanted as much as I do
And he looks for me too
I love you
I hope to meet you soon