I know you.
You're the snake in my garden, tempting me and offering the world.
If you ever left, you'd be the theme of my Ninth Circle of Hell.
You were all things I didn't understand; tides, Pluto, stars exploding, shivers down my spine.
You were so broken, I'm horrible at drinking out of chipped china.
You were my mirror, broken and jagged but still beautiful glittering on my bathroom floor.
You were an atlas, I could trace every girl you'd been with across your palms and up your neck.
You have this string around my heart, and when you leave the room, I feel that tug.
You have a cigarette hole in the bottom of your favorite sweatshirt, I loved it for the way I knew I wasn't the only one burnt by your touch.
You make me feel close to the stars without even looking up.
You're beautiful and tragic.
You know that feeling you get when you see a puppy? Yeah, I get that every time I hear your name.
You were a plague among the female race, and I didn't even mind being inflicted.
You're poison, mislabeled as a boy with stars on his lips.
You have birds nestled in the hollow of your collarbones, I can't help but listen to their song.
You're tall enough to be included in my list of reasons why I love looking up at the sky.
You weren't anything holy, but dear god, you were my favorite religion.
You engulfed my very being, I am no one without you.
I've always known you.