he gives me butterflies the size of pterodactyls.
he makes me feel as if my name is safe within his lungs.
I don't know how to explain it, but there's something about him.
how cliche, I know.
but I love the way he breathes.
the way he holds his cigarette.

it didn't scare me when he told me he loved me after barely 3 weeks.
he was 16 drinks in, babbling, slurring.
but when he said it, he spoke so clearly.
sober thoughts.

I've never seen someone look at me like they've been waiting for me their whole life.

but his eyes have a certain innocence in them, and he can't hide from it.

his laughter whispers love letters.
the wind picks up his scent.

just how crazy young love can be.

somehow, I wish he were my first.
I wish I had never had feelings for anyone else,
because I have wasted feelings on other men when he deserves all of it.
all of me.

when I die, I want them I dust off my heart.
and only find his fingerprints.