you

I'm not the jealous type. At least I wasn't until I met you. I have never wanted to possess, captivate and keep another thing for myself so insatiably in my entire life.  I'm like a savage, trying to protect the treasure in my territory from anyone who looks our way.  I want to taste every part of you, and breathe in everything you've ever been. I want to peel back your ribs and look inside to see your heart beat, your lungs draw in air. I want to know your bones, memorize every inch of your skin, and bite your blue veins so I can feel your blood pulsing against my teeth.  I want to close my eyes only to see the colors of yours.  If I could, I would bottle you up and keep you with me always. But I remind myself that if I cut you down like a rose to keep you to myself, you will cease to be what I so love.  One cannot lie under the shade of a tree if it's not standing, breathing, living, on it's own; if it's been destroyed. You've shown me that real love is the collision of wanting something so much that you risk losing your mind, and respecting something so completely that you can leave it to be as it is. To worship who you are, to appreciate where you have been, and to truly love you without defiling you will be the purpose of the rest of my life.