it was old and broken down and perfect for us.

andreagibson:

Stay
Transcript by fuckinghippie 

Stay

There is snowflakes on my tongue I wanna melt on your inner thigh

There’s a face in the moon I still call jesus

Some nights my body is a temple where I’ve burned so many scriptures I see smoke every time I look in the mirror

Stay

Kiss me where the flames turn blue

Tell me there are places on my skin that look exactly like the sky

And your heart is a jet plane heavy with the weight of businessmen and crying babies

But you’re done running for the exit row cuz god knows we have smoked the stars

Made wishes on falling ashes

Something’s gotta give

It may as well be our fingers

Touch me

Till my ribs become piano keys

Till there is sheet music scrolled across the inside of my lungs cuz I’m breakin old patterns

For anyone else I would rhyme and end this line with Saturn

But you are not the type to wear rings

And I’m not the type to wanna celebrate forever

When right now is forever

Walking down the isle unnoticed

Hold me

Sing me lullabies at dawn when I’ve been up all night painting the wind

To remind myself that things are moving

We were talking mountains and snowboards when you said,

“I’ll teach you how to fall”

I said, “I bet you will”

But my bruises will be half moons hanging above cornfields that yield only crop circles

You are a mystery I promise I will never try to solve

What science calls science I have always called miracle

And since we met there have been days when I have said thank you so many times I could watch all my broken pieces curling into seeds to plant themselves in the bellies of saxophones on street corners in New Orleans

You can find music in places where you cannot find air

So when you say you are homesick for my skin

My body sends you postcards from all its darkest corners and prays you can still see the sun climbing my bones like octaves cuz baby

There were nights when my pulse did not win

Nights when my heartbeat stained the kitchen floor bright red

But you once told me

We are most alive in that split second before death

So I call ugly a four letter word

And tell you I am tired of hearing myself swear

Beauty

Is in the eye of the beholder

You hold me so well that I am almost convinced

That smoke in the mirror might one day disappear