He spat acid,
left you defaced,
******,
misplaced.

I sold lovelessness
to myself, left sweethearts
in sorrow,
in madness,
in a fury to find good arms.

And here we are,
your cold, detached facade
starting to melt,
and I lap it up,
hoping you never
find it again.

You wrap your arms around mine,
as we cross seas of parking lots
in the middle of the night,
and I don't know where the hell
we're going, but it feels so fine.

Your laugh
is the song of angels,
your touch is soothing,
and all your mistakes,
and all the exs,
and all the gods,
led me to you,
whether we bloom and burst,
wilt,
or ride the wind forever,
I'm just thankful to have found you.