"It does seem as if it’s not enough to mirror each other’s scars and be inspired with our creative leanings. I fix the longing deeply in your eyes, as I catch the words you utter in lulling songs, never looking away as I swig my beer. You move your fingers between mine sheepishly- you always have this language that I must own. Always, this sudden need to run my fingers at the back of your head. It’s not enough that we bear each others’ crosses; I gnaw at wishful hours to drop everything just to cradle you. After all the juvenile yearning for death, your smile alone jolts me into life."

SavingSummerKid. TheFrancescoDrafts. BeforeNewYork.