You know I'm one of those writer types that just never learns to stop, so what's so surprising about the book in your hands saying that I won't write you sonnets daily, (but the stars don't even begun to compare to you.) Saying hello was beautiful like a rose blooming right before the camera clicks and goodbye will be the instigator of the world's second end. Reminding you how every day spent with you is my new favorite day. Whispering the wind's ever popular secrets to you between sheets and sunrise just to see that smile you have just for me. You know I'm one of those writer types, most people would tell you to hold on to me as long as possible. But I'm really not sure I agree.
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