the one where everytime i see you, its like you hand me a transparent glass of stars. fragile like that smile, the way you hide behind pillows, those brown eyes. strong like the little bit of stubble on yr chin that makes me want to die, and live all over again, it means you're eyes are still a little sleepy because you just woke up but you're looking me right in the face and it kills you when i flip over and taste the pillow with my grin, it kills you when i sit in the chair and you think i'm bored. this jar of stars that comes attached to your car, which smells like you and clean laundry and y.o.u. and no one else. is a comfort. is a constant. is the only thing worth balancing everything else upon. is thoughts like these. is crying in church because i love you so much and words of god make me fucking think of you. do you even believe that? God.

and bright. bright like those articulate moments when those wonderful words stampede, the way you can find truth in the inferno and fairytales, and the way we laugh about it. the way you tell me i c.r.e.a.t.e, the way you make me cry and laugh, the way my jawline gets set when we're in that funny car of yours boy, because i know it means we're going somewhere, especially when you're taking me home. frozen. because it means time apart/ and these words are the only thing that can hold each memory, a star in a jar.

so this is my christmas present to you, i think.

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