You are beautiful.

More so than the purple in the sky beneath the setting sun.

You are strong.

Compared the fallen dried leaves and my brittle bones.

You are happy.

Happier than children on Christmas and more than

I could ever make you.

You are young.

Young enough to have an entire lifetime of opportunities

wrapped up in your pillow case.

You are taken.

By the luckiest girl on earth and she doesn't even have

a clue.

You are oblivious.

But that's okay because I have always been a little scared

of attention.

You are a flame.

Burning through my veins like warm scotch on a cold night.

You are imperfect.

And that's my favorite thing about you.

You are you.

Never change.