a is for amy. b is for beautiful.
02-21-03 - 1:49 am

blades of grass blow like glass in winters wind of life and happiness. her ideas run wild with fires of a child all the while so brilliant and never without a smile. i cant express nor confess nor gather or supress the plethera of complexity enlaced by her simplicity of just being or the way shes always seeing the way the world turns in any direction you want it to direct. the thoughts she thinks the words she speaks they come together to make this pill my subconcious takes every day to fill my desire to just hear her voice. i have no choice nor wish nor need nor ability to do anything but rejoice in simply knowing you. because you make everything, perfect.
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