I’ve ran out of beautiful ways to say I love you.

Rumor has it every poem I write is about you and how I get swept away in the velocity of the ever-changing emotions you throw at me.

You’re always in two places at once but I swear last night I held all of you in my arms and I swear to God the whole time I was thinking that this is the part of the magic trick where you disappear again.

You’re always fine. And I’m always sorry. Baby, excuse me if I cut you with my tongue, I’m always drunk off fermented words these days.

He said I have to stop living a lie and I told him I’ll try but I’ve been dishonest since before my time and I’m not sure if I can give up the fight.  

You always try to cover your tracks when you lay out your feelings. Like a corpse you want to be rid of. You can wash your hands of the blood, but you can never wash them of the crime. Darling it’s ok to be vulnerable at times.

Everything was once subliminal messaging and warning signs, now you don’t have to read between the lines.

See, I’ve lived my life on the run but for once I wanted to be caught. So I slowed my pace and you won the race. The battle is over. Our mangled hearts can slow and begin another tempo in perfect harmony.

Baby this is it, you’re the masterpiece and I’m just an art thief.