Ugh god I write such lame things down and I'm not sure why I keep doing it
I think I just like that you read it or I like the fact that I get to
And most times writing it down makes it settle in my brain so it doesn't whir around at lightning speed this late at night, preventing me from shutting my eyes
But I keep writing of you and you're still on my mind, that's not fair
I like to think about you making sure the blanket is on me or about the angle I see you from and how the light hits you there, sometimes it'll catch a few Rays in between each eyelash. Sometimes I accidentally think too quickly about the future and I get a bit scared wondering who I'll talk to if I can no longer constantly bug you (****)
But I look myself in the mirror and tell myself to chill, I've got time, and when time runs out, I'll figure it out
I'll handle it

It's 3am and I'm thinking about how I'll miss you a year from now
I wonder

The mailbox hangs open/
Trying to breathe

I keep my paintbrush with me
Wherever I may go
In case I need to cover up
So the real me doesn’t show.
I’m so afraid to show you me
Afraid of what you’ll do-
That you might laugh or say mean things;
I’m afraid I might lose you.

But if you be patient and close your eyes
I’ll strip off my paint coats real slow.
Please understand how much it hurts
To let the real me show.
Now my coats are all stripped off-
I feel naked, bare, and cold.
But if you still love me with all that you see
You are my friend, pure as gold.

I need to keep my paintbrush, though,
And hold it in my hand.
I need to keep it handy
In case someone doesn’t understand.
So please protect me, my dear friend,
And thanks for loving me true.
But, please, let me keep my paintbrush with me
Until I love me too.

I have traveled far
On this journey we call life
And I assure you
The true road to happiness
Begins within your own heart

You are not perfect, darling.
Far from it, actually.
Your aura is lined with jagged edges.

I know it.
You know it.
God knows it.

But that is what makes us so extraordinary.
Your jagged edges expertly fill my empty spaces.

No one is formulated quite like you.
Never has there been.
Never will there be.

You are you, made imperfectly just for me.

I know it.
You know it.
God knows it.