#fi*

You’re the grandest masterpiece. An abstract oil painting– unorganized and messy but oh so deep and interesting to be with. I wonder all the time about how deep your colours run and how the texture of the oil paint feels underneath the pads of my fingers when I’m allowed to touch the art that no one else will ever dare lay a longing glance on. I think about the way you sit in your frame, every scuff mark and nick and gouge and splinter, every engraved detail that I could look at for hours an memorize with my eyes closed; you’re a marvel, a phenomenon, a rarity and a goddess walking among us mere feeble excuses for some sort of Devine reflection of a higher power. You’re vibrancy makes the pictures dance like a cowboy shooting at someone’s feet, dance like a ballerina desperate for the lead role. Makes my insides yell and scream and shiver and shriek in a chorus of verses I’ll never write down, only feel when I look at you, touch you, taste you..

How many brush stokes did it take to make that colour of your heart? I can’t word how many it would take to paint the sky with all the words I want to string together when it comes to even just the thought of you. Splash watercolours over acrylics and watch them bead off the bold and seep into the canvas like the bruises we’ve carried, only to hand each other a new brush dipped in dirty water asking, “please, make it pretty again?”

You’re every painting of a flower I’ve ever seen. Every dainty silhouette, every tint of color rolling into vibrancy, every centre so perfectly complex and enchanting that I could stare for hours; with my head cocked, until my eyes crossed and my knees gave way under me. You’re every curve in the words that come barreling out of my pen– whether it be top speed, ripping through the paper like a round of bullets of some sharp words in the heat of a moment, or slow and careful, calculated and planned and stepped around like mud puddles or dew worms on the sidewalk in the rain; you’ve always connected the ink in my veins to the ink in every pen I touch. You ignite my mind like a firework launched at an old typewriter– messy and chaotic, keys and letters melt and squeal from the flames while the rest is a host to the pretty explosions of colours I’d paint the sky with if it meant it would make you smile.

i’m so unapologetically in love with you. from the moment my eyes fixated on you, you had me. and you’ll have me for the rest of forever, however long that is.

don’t ever forget what you mean to me, baby.

yours, forever and always.

xo frnk 🖤

The most I feel is when I’m by their sides. Or when I’m singing loudly and proudly and with nothing but power in my voice, power and loss and that fucking ache that strains my heart but soothes my skin and bones. I get lost in those feelings too.