primrose

i'm not usually a sap but he's driven a tap into my guts so heres a little of what couldn't be caught in his bucket.

call young love, fleeting or foolish or what you want it to be. as a victim of it i cannot see past what has consumed my entire world and taken its place.

quite literally the light of my life he burns so bright that i swear he'll sear the skin off my face if i hold him too close. yet im met with a warm embrace, a kiss and kind words and im glued in his arms. i don't care if i burn up any more, whether it be in fever or to ashes so be it. i am where i'm meant to be.

he knows this, its the same in or out of his pail. no need to be simmered to become syrup i feel like i'm already fermenting in his presence. he could chop me in half and i'd still cling to his axe. sticky. unrefined but utterly attached. sappy.