i don’t know you, but i want to pull you into my arms and tell you everything’s okay. i want to kiss the deep spaces above your clavicles and fill them with love. i want to touch the fragile bones of your arms, warming up your ever so cold body. i want to slide my fingers through your mane of hair, twisting pieces into a beautiful braid that cascades down your protruding spine. i want to read books with you, and imagine that you live in a place closer to home, a place where you don’t feel like invisible or alienated. i want to cry phoenix tears onto the scars on your wrists, your legs, your stomach, and help them fade along with all your emotional scars. i want to sing to you, soft, sweet little songs until you fall asleep, and then i’d cry silently by your side, marvelling at how beautiful you are. you don’t deserve to be this broken.

no one does.