like a song on repeat,
and I’m trying, but
I’ve only slept five hours this week.
Is there rhythm in your veins?
Because some nights you’re a disco,
and everyone is drawn to the strobe lights, but
I think I prefer the shadow parts.
And I want to get a million bad decisions tattooed into my skin, but
maybe instead of the bass, it’s just my heartbeat I can hear
echoing around in this nothingness.
And you know if I could take everything,
or anything,
I would.
But this feels like an ocean and I don’t even know how to handle more than a few drops, let alone a tsunami.
And you won’t ever be able to find me in somebody else
but you might be able to find parts
and parts of me might be able to find you.
And there’s a million people better for you, anyway.
But maybe I could dog-ear you?
Fold corners of your pages, and
write questions in your margins?
Because I don’t know what to do with my hands when we talk.
And maybe if we can both be the love we never received…
this could always be magic,
this could always be sailing the seven seas,
this could always be watching the sunrise,
and never be normal.
And I’m in love with all the places I’ve never been.
And maybe we could go together.
Because books are safer than people, but they can’t put their hands in my hair like you can.
And I bury roots, so parts of me have to be dug up and taken when people leave.
And sometimes the feeling in my gut is desperately clinging on to a cliff edge,
and
you have that look like you’re about to step on the tips of my fingers.
And I want like I want and I don’t know what I want, I just:
Want.
My body aches from it.
And the world is too big to try to convince you, but
You’re all I want.