"You're my favorite mess."
I'm sorry about the coffee stain swallowing your button down.
And don't give me some ******* about how it actually looks better that way.
There will always be my lipstick stain on the edge of the wine glasses.
I've never been so brave until I licked a tequila bottle dry and told you I loved you.
I do love you.
I love you in the same special way a ****** agrees to kiss you on the mouth.
And she means it.
Sometimes I don't write you because I'm too busy wondering if you're staring at the same moon through a different window.
Lord knows, I love to keep you guessing.
Torturing you with too much imagination, I'm an *******.
So I scream into thunderstorms so nobody ever has to hear me suffer, especially you, because you think I'm better than that.
I'm here, tripping over any subtle difference on my path
And you are there, walking a straight line,
accepting.
I'm a spilled beer being mopped up by an old t-shirt.
"You're my favorite mess
I could never bring myself to clean you up"

You love me, even though I've never heard you say it.
And knowing that, my ***** soul ignites, becomes rigid, and forever remains uncompromising.