Graze your fingers on my skin.. leave a hidden path that no one else can find. Kisses, soft and wet, forehead, cheek, mouth. Everywhere you have touched, fading fast. Come back and stay with me, until the morning dew has perfectly placed it’s droplets along your spine, while we silently struggle to fill our lungs with the sky. Do not let me discourage you, find your way back to my skin and show me why I loved you in the evening.
That was rough.. If Jackson had died, I would’ve stopped watching the show. Forever.