'Vous'

Nothing has ever felt the way you do.
Your skin, your smile, the loss of color in your
cheeks, the redness around those beautiful,
dark lashes after you've cried. 
The way you make my mind drop all of its
useless content at the sight of your eyes.
The perfect beat of your heart when I lay my head on your chest, your scent.
Your limp skinny fingers, they're more than just flesh,
and bones. They're more than just you, and us.
Your mind and the way it works.
Your lips, your back, your legs, your soul.
I'm so in love with it all.


When I hold you, I feel as if I am lost in a dream,
Nothing feels more unrealistic than you.
Nothing feels worse than the pain, the worry,
the sadness that crawls slow and horrifically,
into my mind, my body, my soul when you hurt.
I wish I could carry it all away from you.


You are the last rose petal, and the saddest sun set.
And goodbyes with you, and 'see you laters'
are more than just phrases to me.
They're gashes, they're ghosts, they are leeches
that suck out your blood, and fire that burns.
And yes, it pains me to watch you go.
'Cause each step, and each mile you take, my heart
 goes with you.
And your soul is more than just another metaphor.
Like all of them have been before.
Because nothing can ever, has ever, will ever
compare to you.