My devastation vomit

Broken down into a hundred thousand bits.

What did you do to me? I can't breath.

I want to rip my heart out and through it at you.

Is that what you wanted?

Well there you have it, you can squish it now.

Knead it, and make some tortillas out of it.

Four freaking years in love with you.

It seems you don't get it. You don't see me.

You have absolutely no idea. You've got no idea what this, these caresses mean to me.

Is it you, or is it my love for you that makes you so amazing?

It never ends. What I feel for you is to write a goddamn love story.

No one, no one will love you this way. Ever. I will never love anyone this much.

What is love?

This is love. Your skin is love.

But all my letter, all my loving, don't mean anything to you.

Most of all, they're not remotely enough to forgive my insanity.

People say it's not words that count, but actions.

I say is written words that expose your true insides. And those guts are the ones that count.

I could stay here in this soil, just for you, all over again.

While everything you keep in your head and heart, rest a mystery to me.

Lying awake just to make sure I won't miss these precious moments that will probably never repeat.