You make me feel like history: like ancient skies, crumbling fortresses, open fields, the wrath of nature; nymphs and powerful goddesses, like a warrior, like a wise and skilled hunter. You make me feel like a renegade. You bring me closer to nature and the strings of life. You make me strong and braver than I ever thought I could be after you picked up all my pieces and waited for me to puzzle them out. You didn’t put them together for me, but I like that. You waited for me and I liked it.
You make me feel crazy/beautiful. You make me feel dangerous and you make me feel safe in every way. These cuts you place on my body, I wear them with pride. They make me feel sexy and somehow I think I know you think they’re beautiful too. Even my old scars try to shine for you and so far, that’s okay by me. I don’t worry about the possibility that you could be glancing at another girl, because I know she’ll never hold your heart the way that I do. Every time you cut me, bruise me, and kiss me, I know strand by strand, our souls are fusing together and the more time passes by, we’ll become inseparable, just a big, beautiful, breathing mass of love. I love the way that you love me, despite my complaints. I ache for you whenever you’re away and I remember the way that you knew my body and showed me how. I’ve never dropped down my guard around someone, reverted back to the basics and felt so comfortable in my life. I don’t have to wear make up or shower every day or have perfect nails to feel pretty. I don’t care if we look like an amazing couple or not. I know we can do the most mundane of activities but we make it worthwhile. You push me to strive for a better version of myself without judgment or desire for me to change into something you want. You make me feel like it’s okay to venture out into new territory and attack it with vigour and ferocity. You make me not care about what anyone else thinks. I close my eyes and I see blossoms of red and white. We’re a fury of passion and we always will be and I’m okay with a whirlwind life as long as you’re always hanging onto my hand as we spin headfirst into anywhere-land. When we’re bare and lie together, our skin finds its way and we’re meant to fit together. I can close my eyes and breathe you in, no matter where I’m at. And when you touch me and kiss me, I feel like my favorite flowers: fragile and strong at the same time, poisonous, and pure. And when you open me up, there’s no pain at all, just this rush I’ve never felt until now. And I want to glow and bleed just for you and feel you deep inside me and I want you to feel me heal, wrap my legs tighter around you. When I run I know you’re in my heart. When I look up at the moon and the stars, I know you were on the other side of the world and that you did it too. I know we feel each other when we’re in each other’s thoughts. And whatever it was right I did in another universe or previous lifetime, I’m thankful because I’m being rewarded for it now. And I can’t wait to immerse myself in nature with you, back to those days when we needed to hunt for our village people and we were strong for each other. I feel alive when I’m with you, sometimes, so alive that we fight. But I accept that. We’re too passionate and I like it just like that. I never want it to change. I want to be crazy/beautiful with you and spiral out of control and cry and make love and yell and climb mountains and bring in our kill and shower the blood off and hold hands and stare into your eyes and breathe you in and take each step forward with you. Because after all is said and done, and for everything I know that looms ahead, I know we were meant for each other and life is good now.
