you are hollow, but i’m whole enough to make a sound for both of us combined. i’m lazy, quite hazy, quite sensitive when it comes to certain topics. standoffish, obnoxious around groups of people i know too fondly, poetry nerd, timid and almost vibrantly in love with the early morning peak of sun peeking through the arms of the tree outside my bedroom window. i’m quite passive, rarely erratic, hesitant but reverent. and you’re a howl-at-the-moon monsoon, curious raccoon, brazen, contagious smiler. and i’m most definitely in some kind of daze, trapped in a trance and you’re the sturdy rope that pulls me from my evitable demise. but i’m seventeen, still unseen, still solitary. still completely and irrevocably in love with the way things feel, dying for the realness of your peace wrapped around my shoulders.