#like light

The best part abt people perpetuating the Griffin McElroy is the (infinity) doctor thing is that there are three distinct categories of responses you can expect:

I went somewhere new today. I must've looked lost. when they asked me where I was from, I told them your name.

your eyes are empty deserts songs sung in other languages stars that run for miles & miles those blurry lights that caught your sleeve on fire the shards of you stick to me linger listlessly inside the night between my ribs there’s the light peering through again under crocheted blankets at the peak of December if i could love anyone through winter let anyone run inside me like frozen pipes anyone anywhere at all it would be you it would be you only only you.

i’ve been so afraid and never like this never so fearful to dislodge this piece in my throat to allow me to breathe, to speak, more clearly this knotted feeling, this choking, this gasping where is it from? where am I from? here, golden, in your arms here, in place of the moon i’ll light the desert to see you again i’d kiss the space between your shoulder blades i’d throw myself against the sun i’d unearth the sistine chapel i would do anything for you and that is why i am afraid. i wanted a look at you, to see if i could find myself in the process (and i have) : you are a mirror and you are a window and you are a room wide enough for the ocean to move through, the smoke the rise in, the light to catch hold (and that is where I’m from) that is what I’m told and though I have found myself, I still hold tightly to the idea that I will continue to seek later on that I will cross oceans to find myself that i will meet exotic people who tell me stories I hardly believe but i can’t imagine wanting to cross a desert for any of them for anyone but you and I see myself growing in the 4pm of your eyes the spinning gold of your hair the sounds of your cheekbones i’ve looked inside you i’ve waded in the depths of you i’ve burnt myself on your light leak & I’m home. finally.