3/27
When I tell you I love you, I feel it. Everywhere. My blood flows, tracing those words through my veins. From my heart, to my feet, to my fingers, to my eyes, to my lips. It flows. It’s pours. Out of me. But somehow all it creates only 1, 2, 3 words, and this feeling, this feeling feels worth more words than I can count on my fingers and toes, on the hair on my head and atoms in my body. This feeling feels like something I cannot explain because I don’t know that many words but what I can tell you, is that it’s a good feeling, and a nauseating feeling, and I feel it.










