I projected a map of you
An extension of my body
Without you I feel wrong
A lonely amputee
The map of me has a hole
I cannot seem to replace
You have taken a part of me
I forever am empty space

I am dumb as fuck
Get drunk off happiness
Make the wrong choices
Wound up done

It’s like summer never happened
It was there now it’s not
A short, quick spasm
Soon to be forgot

My fingers dance on skin
Writing love with every tap
Comforting every groove
Making their home on someone else
Like a house made flexible
It will last through the storm
A leaky roof could be worse
But my fingers fix the wounds

Your hand can’t make you feel the way I can

I like feeling slightly drunk
It’s the right amount of control
I still can function
Everything is softer
Everything is a little better
I don’t quite function
I loose some control
I like feeling drunk

You are a mountain
Tall, brooding, unchanging
I am the ocean
Swift, uncertain, beautiful

You are reliable
I am forever chaotic

We are doomed in this life
The base of the mountain sprawling
Waves reaching up the shore
Like an asymptote, we never touch

Life can be viewed
As interesting or not
Like loud fireworks
Followed by silence

I do not think that a person’s heart is a simple lock that only requires a key to open. I do not think that love is finding the person who has this key or giving this key to someone. Rather, I think love is finding the person who is like a burglar. They want so desperately what’s inside your heart, that they wait to hear the clicks that they are on track to crack a safe. They spend precious time perfecting the combination to achieve having you. That is what I think love is.

I was taught that sex makes things complicated
And I’m sure it can
But we are an exception
Even now that we are done

Collection of my life.