( rangkai kata ) ; him

to him ;

Read it carefully, want you?

Once upon a time,
i knew a man who reminded me of too many things
that i thought he could form universe with his own existence.

Making me drunk, messy in love, praising him 24/7 non stop.

I just love him from what he is doing,
and he probably wont find the things i said just now.

I don't have any expectation on him
and I told him not to have it on me too
because I am a total wreck,
it is funny to see me admiring his things like literally from A to Z,

he is not a perfect portrait of human being
but strong enough to make me fall perhaps he is so slippery?.

I haven't seen how home his eyes are.

Can we have them soon?
`cause a small walk at night doesnt sounds bad at all,
or being high of that caffeine aroma
'cause we share stories at your favorite coffee shop at town?.

Funny how you find your morning seems unusual,
realizing that he might came from one of your stories,
he argued, still cute.

At first tiny hi from him didn't affect me that much
and the next second totally a beyond heaven.

We always find the two of us having messy late night calls,
he talks nonsense.

Sometimes he knows how blurty he is,
he sounds homely, earthy,
i remember he poured his best giggles that night,
the next night was full of tears,
but his voice stays the same,

pleasing, tickling, my heart clenched thousand times
and I told him.

Sometimes we don't get to make a call
so we have to wait for the next late night call.

I recorder his laughter.

The fairy light is nothing compared to the warmth he radiate,

the sound of happiness
that has it own way to get stuck in my brain,

like a favorite song
I've been singing in my shower routine.

He shared me his obsession,
bought six boxes of protein milk.

I can be his first listener whenever he is in a good condition,
bad condition, simple.

Giving him the best butterfly kisses and warmest hug
-is my notion.

I swear like every single second
there's just something that make me proud of him
even if he does nothing.
But that's just me being me.

Everyday is like a poem to me.

Heart beats, messy blush, rosy cheeks,

random giggles, flowery rooms, happy tears, frustrating tears.

I will tell him it's okay not to be okay,
I love him and it's more than I love him,

damn my vocabulary is too limited to express it.

Let's call it a perfect mess.

That's it.

He is not beautiful, way more than beautiful.

Can I take it to a morning

Where the fields are painted gold

And the trees are filled with memories

Of the feelings never told?

Thank you for taught me things.

I always want it,
want you as my day 1.