And I indulge in the thought
as to know how it would feel to be
meticulously and irrevocably in love with you,
my dear

So I yet again find myself
drifting far away
    from here

Evaporating into stardust all throughout the      
                      atmosphere

She hates the way she looks
first thing in the morning
and refuses to look in the mirror on her way down
to make coffee

He adores the way she talks
in her sleep, and runs his fingers
along the curves of her cheeks
and believes there is nothing
more beautiful,
more pure,
more innocent
than the way her hair is imperfect,
her skin left untouched and
her eyes when they have yet to see the world
as she turns to face him at six a.m.


She doesn't know that she's beautiful,
He doesn't know he's her world.

I often times forget that this life
is not someone else's dream
And I constantly find myself
tripping over things and failing to realize that
I did this to myself
I am not who they all aspired me to be
I was never the flower girl tip toeing down the carpeted aisle with a bouquet of red roses in her hands
Rather I grew up the quiet girl sitting alone
in the back corner of the church
Scribbling on her wrists with ink
and wondering how this life ever even came to be

sometimes
i get the sudden urge to pour every aspect of my soul into the pages of an old, empty book
where i can write endlessly in emense detail about every single reason as to why you are the love of my life
and about how i bet you dont remember that afternoon in the coffee shop downtown where you looked into my eyes and grabbed my hand for the first time
and that you've probably forgotten about that morning where you walked to my house in the pouring rain
but i haven't
because what you dont know is that it meant the absolute world to me
or how you stitched up all the broken pieces of myself, unconsciously sewing in tiny bits of your heart until finally we became
one

I could never quite understand why you wanted me
why you chose me when you could have had her, or her, or even her
it perplexed me to think that you
genuinely loved me,
because I had yet to learn to love myself
but it warmed my heart to say
that you were the best story sitting on my bookcase,                  
that you made me feel like the sun was something you had built for me
or to remember all those tear stained nights when you had begged me to stay
and I have finally figured out why now,
because I had made you feel the same way

When you find yourself surrounded
by emptiness and despair,
walking into lonely rooms filled
with hollowed air,
come to me
take my hand
off to never never land.
Where you will never be alone
and never shed a tear,
off to never never land,
take my hand, my dear.