I fell in love with a boy who wears his brown eyes like he's flaunting the pools of honey they create when the sun hits them. He smiles at the ground the same way he smiles at me; it pulls at the curves of my mouth and I glow when his eyes find rest in mine. He walks with his hands tucked deep in his pockets but I always prefer when they're holding me. He chews his fingertips out of habit and he sleeps with a pillow tucked between his knees. He drinks his beer strong and his voice is deep, like a hollow wind rushing through a cave. My favorite sound.
He’s my early morning coffee. He’s the overpass when it rains. He keeps me safe when the world bears it’s weight and the way his eyes look at my lips before he kisses me puts me at ease but takes my breath away.
The most beautiful thing I’ve ever done is loved him. I fear he’ll never be able to understand how much, and for that, I write.  
Because if the world and all it’s cruelty brings a day where he’s no longer mine to love he can never doubt that my heart always beat for him; that my pens spilled ink on blank pages in desperation that he understands just how much it did.
I fell in love with a boy with dark hair and brown eyes. But this isn’t a poem about him, this is a poem about me. My words will live on long after I am gone and although this may not be seen by everyone it will be seen by someone. It will be seen by him. And maybe he’ll remember it, and maybe he’ll understand.
Love doesn’t happen like this for everyone, and it never happens twice. But it happened to me, it happened with you.
You will find my heart swimming in a pool of honey.