I'm that type of person: who'll give you anything, especially pretty things. I like giving you pretty things because you're wonderful. And wonderful people deserve to have pretty things, to be cared for. Don't we all.
But you my dear, well aren't you something special. Just utterly fascinating.
I would drown my thoughts in blank pages and in a minute they'll be filled. From one end to the other, from top to bottom. Filled with color because you give that to me, I just spill it. You should be proud of that, no one has been able to do that.
But I'm also that type of person who'd want something back, and that's you. All of you. Your skin, bones, everything. The fragile things that will never leave you. Your perfect hair and eyes and smile and laugh and fingers. But I want the imperfections as well.... all to myself. I'm the one who gets to have them, I'll put them in a jar and shut the lid tight.
I'm the lucky one who gets to have you cause who gets to have someone like you. I can't see what anyone else can see in anyone else but you.
It's gonna be me and you. It's gonna be us.
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