that I can lay around with all day getting stoned and going through each others photo archives and journals and listening to each others stories

A boy but a man
one that can appreciate my roughness and intensity but is capable of cradling my softness
one that is cultured and insightful
that knows when to dig his nails into my back and when to lightly drag them across my skin

it wont matter to him that i’ve spent a weekend in a psychiatric hospital before
he won’t judge me for having to take crazy pills
he wont see the fucked up shit thats happened to me as damage. He’ll know that what has happened in my past doesn’t define me. 

i’ll have to raise up on my toes to give him a kiss

but just like my mother told me, you don’t get to choose who you fall for

so I try not to get too hung up on all of this