"It does seem as if it’s not enough to mirror each other’s scars
and be inspired with our creative leanings. I fix the longing
deeply in your eyes, as I catch the words you utter in lulling
songs, never looking away as I swig my beer. You move your
fingers between mine sheepishly- you always have this language
that I must own. Always, this sudden need to run my fingers at
the back of your head. It’s not enough that we bear each others’
crosses; I gnaw at wishful hours to drop everything just to
cradle you. After all the juvenile yearning for death, your
smile alone jolts me into life."  SavingSummerKid.
TheFrancescoDrafts. BeforeNewYork.