323

323 years later, I fell into his tasteful melody with those jaw-dropping harmonies that take me to the prettiest places when I fall into real dark places. It’s so unusual how he’s the only one who knows how to pull me out of that place when I’m not here. The music he writes is like, Coming in from the cold, snow left untouched with a beautiful nighttime glow, and sipping on hot chocolate while dancing around in my coziest socks, no pants with a 2Pac shirt on. His music has always given me that “mmmm” feeling when the morning coffee hits just right. Am I outta line saying these things? Maybe, maybe not but I don’t care. Someone has to say it. His voice is so velvety through my phone, And he sticks to me like a Butterfinger. There’s a few bars I know where no one will bother us with our vodkas, and we can stumble through the parking lot, while we play guitar in the air, and headbang to nothing,nowhere. If he would ever fall, I’d pick him up and drink the tears he hides, wipe them all away because seeing him so wounded, kills me in the worst way. I remember the smiles he gives me when he feels like dying, it makes my glass house shatter. Those fears, those tears, won’t happen when I’m here because I’ll always be here. He will never be without love and he will never go unnoticed by me.