299, 792, 458 m/s every exploding firework is turning into a silhouette of you. every ray of sunlight catches the edge of your skin like a cloud with a silver lining, except i cant see whats so bad about you. every lightbulb lit throws shadows across the peaks of your shoulders, collarbones and neck, mountain ranges my lips wish to climb. there are bonfires within my joints, they cause aches at the most inconvenient times, throwing plans into disarray with their imaginary flames. I'm trying to write about a boy who isn't just the remains of my cold tea, settled in the bottom of a mug. he isnt just early morning dust in the haze of sunshine through thin curtains. he isn't just the chill on my skin or the words caught in my throat. the far off rumble of traffic is his breathing in my ear, a clock ticking is his slow-beating heart. I'm trying to find the words without repeating myself or anyone else, and im trying to show what he means to me, but I swear every moment I spend with him he is stealing all my best lines and keeping them hidden, so when I come to him with open wounds he can show me how beautiful he thinks I am.