you didn't blow up my world. you didn't. sparks didn't fly in every direction when i saw your face for the first time. your hair had blue tips that were fading fast and i didn't think i was in love. i just thought you looked like a picture someone had left in the sun for too long. and everything about you confirmed it: that you soaked in things that drained the life out of you.

i can't even say that you are my world. you're not. you aren't my missing piece and nothing about you could ever make me whole. you are broken and bruised in so many places that i can't tell if your spirit is black and purple or you just tell people that so they don't offer you any more band aids. i wish i could say that i wouldn't do that, but i want so badly to paint you gold that i might do something stupid, like make you smile instead of cry.

you didn't blow up my world, you just tilted it on it's axis. sparks didn't fly because they were too busy pushing the breath back into my lungs. you took it away when you were soaking in your own laughter. a laugh that i can't say is mine because i'm laughing too. you don't fill me up, you overflow. i'm just lucky to catch some of your drops in my own overflowing cup. your black and purple soul that splinters into a million pieces just to put itself back together again would never look as good in gold. dark matter has no use for a little aurum. because you are a galaxy, my love.

a galaxy right next to mine, and when they met... let me tell you, you didn't blow up my world. you just tilted it on its axis. you gave the colors bigger names and the flowers brighter colors. the sky dances at night and my dreams are full of yours. and i like the view.