Tyler Knott Gregson

If you give me homeI will give you adventure.It's both we can have.

Part those sheetslike holy watersand I will worship you skinlike a born-againbeliever.

I just may be the strangest person you will ever know. I am filled with too many oddities and too few consistencies and I will always lack the spongey filter that should live between brain and mouth. These defining traits these enduring characteristics, and these fingers crossed that in all of it, you will find them irresistible.

I believein love at first sightbut I will always believe that the peoplewe lovewe have loved before.Many, many, many times beforeand when we stumblethrough grace and circumstance and that brilliant illusion of choiceto finally meet them again, we feel it fastereach time through.The one glance that set life alightis two sets of two eyesstaring through the layersof lifetimes and stolen glancesand first kisses and hands held;the brace against the weight and unrelenting tideof waiting.I believein love at first sightbut am not burdened with the misconceptionthat it's a first sightat all.

What an utter disgrace it would be to find something truly magic and spend any time at all pretending and trying to convince yourself it is all just an unbelievably orchestrated and beautifully choreographed illusion.

Be gentle,always delicatewith every soulyou meet,for every single morningyou wake up,there is someoneWishing,silentlyand secretly,that theyhad not.

There is more light than darkness, there has always been.

I would love to saythat youmake meweak in the kneesbutto be quite upfrontand completelytruthfulyoumake my bodyforgetit has kneesat all.

I am filled with wonderings, questions and doubt,but of one thing I am certain: it will always be youthat gives flight to the butterflies inside me;calm to the sea I have become and hope to the darkness all around us.It is you and it has always been you...you.

Some days I wake upand all I feelare the fracturesin the flesh that coversthe only meI've ever known.Some days,it's those exact fissuresthat let the lighthiding inside mepour outand coverin goldeveryonethat found enough beautyin the cracksto standclose.

What if it's the thereand not the herethat I long for?The wanderand not the wait,the magicin the lost feetstumbling downthe faraway streetand the way the moonnever hangsquite the same.

I would rather wear honest tears than the most beautiful and elaborately faked smile.

In the space, the pause between this breath and the one that follows, you have made a home inside me.

All I know, all I can comprehend of the mathematics of a life, are the times your hand is inside my hand, and the times it is not.