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Death-throws Dec 2016
I sat down to write about how you made me feel, Funny,   I thought something indescribeable  would be easy to explain

For the longest time I was In a dark place. With weights of lead bound around my heart. The inside of my skull became  walls that I was forced  to scream at  my flesh  was a barrier to letting the happyness out, my fingers   gripping cold steal triggers trembling pleading to let the grey  matter out
To decorate the walls in my own shade of misery.  
But I'm here
Breathing

It's strange,  for a boy who never leave his room. To sit Under his washing line and listen to the birds  sing. I lie on butter cups as I watch clouds dart between wire and cotton, how did I get here?
What God did I pray too?
Who did I pay?

When my world  was over. My pistol In my hand. You happened.
The cloud that had allways sat just out of sight came running. Galloping . To give me water.  To give me life,

A blue eyed blonde haired mirror of myself emerged,
Your smile Is warm. And kind. Like the evening sun I write this in,
Your touch was wholesome. And craved, you took the freyed edges of the tapastry that had become  my life and started to spin a new story. You took the lead weights  from my heart and melted them  into sinkers so we could catch stories with our fingers,  your skin felt like silk that I could never afford.
With each step  you danced on egg shells as you try  collect my broken pieces
And when a part of my was missing you filled it with a part of you. And now I find myself intertwined.
Here in this warm glow I notice something I've never had before.
The voices In my head have  stopped chiming.  The cries are far away.
Your gifts  have  not stopped coming.  I pray your here to stay
In less time then anyone has ever been in my life you have done so much more,   in less time then it took to knock me down you've built me into something more
I'll never forget the way I feel right now, here. Today.
Because each and every time I see you.
I know I'll stay this way
I tried >. <  your a light house on a dark and desolate shore and  no one has ever been better  at  guiding me home  x
N0thing Mar 2015
The saddest thing
Isn't not having friends
But thinking you do
When really *you don't

— The End —