I want to feel you beside me instead of empty sheets and pillowcases. To open my eyes and see you framed in morning rays and crust. To trace the dips and protrusions; the gentle bumps erupting when I exhale on your skin.
I wish to breathe you in and taste every fear and doubt you’ve ever had. To swallow them whole. Never to return, for I will give you a love so pure it has created constellations and galaxies inside of me.
I am not sorry.
- Short section from one of my early morning mind vomits.