So this is the story of a kid, who made me fall for him in the shortest time ever.

If you're looking for a great story, this is not. And you can quit reading now.

So, he's actually not a kid, he's a fully grown up man.

He works and drinks, he gets angry "more often than sometimes", he smokes and has some other bad habits, he has really bad days when he would love to **** everyone, literally ****. But he also has great days, just like you and I.

But you see, there's something about him... and please don't try to ask me what, but there's something in his eyes while he laughs that makes me know who he truly is.I know that deep down he's not this grown and angry man who can't stand routine. In that exact second I know his a little kid, who most of the time still ten.

In our first date he tried to look tweenty six, but at the end of it, his ten year old showed.
Time passed and he didn't try once again to look something he wasn't.

And by ten I don't mean him being inmmature, I mean him being innocent, creative, caring and loving

Everytime he sings, cries or laughs I look into his eyes and have no doubt about being in love with him.

I bet you haven't fall for a ten year old kid. I bet you don't know how that kind of love feels.

I'm afraid that if someone were to put a knife to my skin and cut open, all that would erupt from my veins is your name, tucked neatly into the corners, so no one could know how fervently I love you. Even though you're all that is keeping me alive, at times youre all that I think will be the death of me.

Is there tear gas in this room?
Because I can't stop crying
The gas crawls down my esophagus
And crushes my wounded heart.

“God this hurts”

I keep typing,
Praying to computer screen
That I'll forget the smell of your hair
I type till my fingers bleed
So I can forget what your touch feels like
How our lips fit perfectly together.

“God I hate myself”

The only phrase I think of
When I'm pleading for things to back to normal
Back to the days
Where you didn't want to to crack open my skull
And see all of the ugly things
That drift around my cranium

“Baby please I'm sorry. I’m a mess,
A klutz, who waltzes around with stupidity
Baby I get this feeling in my head
When you are not around
I want to keep writing you these love letters
By sliding them under your doors called your eyelids”
But I can’t

I sit alone in the bus called life
Looking across my seat
I see you, my love
Holding onto the bar
Your pretty Blue headlights
That make me drawn to you
Your pretty Blue headlights
Covered with the rain I caused
I'm a rain man,
you see, when people get close to me
I get scared
And force the skies rain to tears with pain.


The only thing that floats in my mind
Is that I hope the man of you life
Buys you flowers
Sunflowers especially
And shows up to your work unexpectedly.
I hope you can travel to Paris
and keep a long list of all of the countries
you've cuddled in.
With him.
I hope you he can handle seeing the stars
From your eyes every time you guys cuddle
Under the moon light.
I hope he can teach you how to slow dance
And I hope that he can teach me
On how to be a better man.

I was looking for a reason not to admire you,
but everything you do seems magical to me.
I was looking for a reason not to look for you,
but all I can see is your face in every corner.

I was looking for a reason not to think of you,
but you're the center of my mind.
I was looking for a reason not to talk to you,
but every time that you're near,
I'm dying for you to notice me.

I was looking for a reason not to be lonely,
but I shuffle my playlist and it's a sad song.
I was looking for a reason not to love you,
but you're name is all over my heart.

Perhaps the familiar yet unnoticed crevices in the walls must mean more to me than the very same crevices which will forevermore remain hidden in the depths of my heart.

They're all pieced together,
forming an abstractly numb
piece of art.

Incisions, Incisions,
Made by false, ignorant decisions.

Beautifully arrayed intervals of nothing but enigmatic space.

When you part, your soul hath but a trace.

Done caring.

About the permanent , lethal damage that has been done

By far more than just one.