when boys cry
because I want you but to define want would mean defining every word in the English language that I stutter on when I look up at you. defining the feeling of globules of letters that form sentences my mouth doesn't dare to utter, but you know it's something along the lines of love and other words that taste like candy. because want is a laughable substitute for even a sliver of what I feel for you. isn't that dramatic? and isn't it sad how I pant and pant for you like a waiting dog drooling at the sight of the hand that feeds it. and is it funny how the apex of my writing is this: I've known you, and then I've loved you? I've yearned you for years and my heart aches for a taste of you everyday but I fear the most to tell you I'm afraid. that, if you venture far enough to leave me breathless, you will find me unsightly. I am torn at every seam, sobbing with each stretch and pull. my body is a roadmap of every destination I've dreaded reaching. I might just be the most torrid sight but I love the way you look at me when I speak and loving you is the closest I'll get to heaven and an honest religion worth worshipping and if I lose my words tomorrow the last thing I'll be saying tonight is your name, over and over until my mouth only moves to the rhythm of your syllables.
I'm sorry. I'm high and I love you and you're so funny I wish I could skinny dip inside your mind.
