Every time I look at you it takes my breath away. My heart speeds up and my mouth just kind of hangs open. What you do to me is not normal and not even healthy. You never notice because you can’t see me, or choose not to, but it happens every single time. And I try to play it cool, looking away to work on bringing my breathing back to normal. The way your sweet lips are perfectly shaped and in that moment it’s like I can hear everything that I want you to say to me come out of them. I can imagine the way I would feel waking up next to you at 3 am, your arms around me. You would look so peaceful and the way the moon would light up your face would make anyone mistake you for an angel. But the thing is, I know it’s no mistake. You are an angel. You’re my piece of heaven on this earth. They always say an angel is with you when you take your last breath on this earth. If it meant that you would hold my hand through the journey of death, I would never stop looking at you. I don’t know you the way I want to yet, and I might not ever get the chance, but the thought of you will have to be enough to get me through the journey of life.
We are the coming of a brutal generation of writers fighting to bare our stance and standing for what we believe. This is just the beginning.