i am very much in love with an incredibly wonderful girl who is way to good for me, yet crazy. that is not a bad thing, just a matter of fact.

i am incredibly into the derrangement of senses.
i let the city bite my feet.
i wish at least i did.
i fear growing up,
not for the act of getting old,
but for the lack of being good,
for the lack of showing love,
for the lack of the smile,
for the lack of the sun.
i will hate my pressed shirts.
though, i may wear them,
to take them off at night
and make a mousse
of chocolate
for my parents
while they sit
and watch
network comedies
or more importantly
my lovely
amelia.