How Can I Tell You How Special You Are?


The other night,
I’d gone to our rooftop,
with fireflies flickering overhead,
with the cold breeze brushing through my skin.
I laid underneath the blanket of stars
and lost myself in their beauty.
And you know what?
I thought of you.
How you smiled and never cared about your crooked teeth.
How you swore it’s the last cigarette but always ended up lighting another.
How you swore it’s the last comment on a stupid tv show but always ended up blurting another.
How you kept yourself when everybody else was forgetting who they are.
How you made a home for people who’d only stay the night.
How you loved people with all your heart
that it made you so fucking sad.
You and the stars are very similar creatures,
because people would only see your light
when you’ve already exploded.
When you’re dead.
But I am here.
I see you.
I know they don’t tell you enough
but dear, you matter,
and you’re too special of a light
to just burn out.