can I bottle the butterflies
for you to release around your room when you miss me

baby, can you imagine
falling asleep to the gentle sound of their wings, barely even audible

it's not dissimilar to how you fall asleep to the touch of my fingertips lightly on the curve of your back

oh,
and I love to trace over your stretch marks
though you say you hate them
they are just like my scars really,
a reminder that you're growing from the person you used to be.

and I love the way they almost glisten in the light,
god do they fascinate me

it doesn't matter what I give you for Christmas
because it will never meet the standard of what you have given me

for the first time in my life
I have come to the realisation
that I ******* deserve to, and I can, be happy