appreciation.

i never got a chance to tell you how much

i liked the curve in your arm when you cradled that gun.

guns are all the same to me, little destiny killers, little pockets of death in a world filled with life.

but i must say, seeing you with that horrible thing, cheek leaned against barrel for a moment, brown eyes narrowed in concentration, makes it seem a little whiter, a little more pure.

you tell me i worry too much and i don't live every moment and that i really, really need to work out, but god, please, let me just watch you forever,

you work of art, you inspiration, you imperfect tragedy.