I don't know if*
   I'm ready to fall in love with
   the boy who makes sunshine
   on rainy days, and is the best part
   of the great days.
   Whose hugs feel like safety, and
   kisses like heaven.
   That's not to say he's innocent,
   because there's no hell like the
   burn I feel when he's between
   my legs, and his hips are on mine.
In the grey sky dawn of a Tuesday,
   the one patch of sunlight
   between my shuttered window
   hits the roses perched by my
   bedside, and I wonder if
   the boy made of stardust, and
   chocolate, and soft touches
   should be mine,
   because I'm falling apart,
   and coming back together
trying not to love him too.