Never have I walked as long as
the walk home with the image
of you waiting in my bed
in my head.

Honey,
I think they stole the moon.

Two long and thin legs,
wrapped tight in see-through fabric.
Her walk was destructing and suspicious,
never looked you in the eye.
Her hair was a faded version of the red it used to be,
and her eyes rested deeper
and cold.
She always wore one hand in her pocket,
firmly holding a key.
Just in case, she said.
Those things happen.
Not one person in town had never seen her
with a plastic bag
or a cigarette.
Not a single person hadn't seen her walk.
Only never towards home.

From all the things that might go wrong,
all the cheating or the
it just doesn't feel the same's.
With every cry and fight and awkward silence,
every fakes ******,
every what the **** is wrong with you.
Every why did you,
what did she,
how could you.
For every fall and break and end,
I am thankfull that it's you.

The tip of his nose to mine,
as our hips moved towards and away.
My arm around his shoulders,
his fingers in my hair.
As he tried to get up to finish,
I automaticly pulled him back in and
cried out:
Stay with me!
He did,
pressed his body against me,
but somehow both of us knew
I wasn't talking about ***.

Sometimes it takes me three days alone,
Half of a bottle,
A minute with him.

To find that we can choose misery,
Or euphoria,
In anything.

I like the sight of my room
With your pants on the ground
And my bed looks more comfortable
With you (slightly snorting and) rolling around
Somehow your body makes my skin look healthy,
******* are out of this world when you help me,
My clothes fit me better when you say you like them,
My ******* seem to grow every second you strike them,
My jokes aren't stupid when I see you smile,
Worries aren't worries when you talk for a while,

I guess the point of what I'm trying to say,
Is that I like having you here, so please stay.

He never asks about the past,
even when it'd be okay.
He reads me like a post-it note,
but patiently he waits.
He sees and grabs me, guides me home,
but he never asks what's wrong.
As he comforts me and I say I'm fine,
he holds me, plays along.

(I want to tell him everything,
but not a single word sounds right)