he'll wipe the blood from your chin, tell you you're beautiful even when your smile splits from ear to ear. he'll sew your cheeks back together, tell you it's okay that your lungs occasionally collapse and it's okay that sometimes you can't breathe, because he'll fill you with life when you can't do it yourself and when you apologize for smearing your existence all over him, when you apologize for what a mess you are, when you apologize for not being better, he'll gently take your face in his palms, he'll tell you what a beautiful thing you are, that you're his mess, and god, baby girl, you're so worth it.