skies have been brighter.
nights have been nicer.
usually the light at the end of my sight
is a horizon; a sunrise.
(not like they lead to amazing grace)
but, the past few days,
no, weeks,
no, months,
have been a grace from a God I don’t believe;
It’s been you.
I hate saying it,
but poems don’t do it justice,
and songs just get repetitive.
Somehow I feel a reason to live.
I could give you a heart on a platter,
I could give you anything I can humanly procure,
or at least I’d try,
or in my dreams, if ever I do rest,
I’d love to acquire your head on my chest,
your breath on my neck,
your hand in my hair.
I don’t know how I can bare thinking about this all the time.
I mean that in the most positive way,
because I love it, and I do everyday.
I’ll cut this short, I could write you a novel,
Here’s my heart of pyrite, put it in your locket and hold it tight,
keep it by your chest when you say
"goodnight."