shoot to the moon but be gentle with it why is it... that I was constantly counting on the stars and you.. you spent most of your time praying when every inch of your body was so majestically ... creative that you were reigning my thoughts at some point the storm was unbearable I.. I hate when my heartbeat turns into tears and my body can't help but to pool the very essence of your memories to flow right beneath my skin... I pray for the day when my lips can express the words I love you and my heart doesn't have to mean it the day when you're no longer an extension of myself when finally I find that I am brave enough to purge myself of your memories