Do you want me to write you in

Dust off all your features

Make you perfect

Not that you need it

You're effortlessly illustrated

Colourfully fated for my pen

I can show you how

The world is so much brighter when

The writer gets to turn it

I'll give you wings although you say you don't deserve it

You were definitely made

For felt tips sonnets that I've kept in way too long

And I know

That paper hearts are fast to break

So don't you go

Away

Oh my god, I think you've really done it this time

Oh my god, don't think that I can make it back

But could you hold on just a little

While I sequence all my scribbles

Into novels filled with stars I'll never send

'Cause I'm essentially a writer

Who never makes it to the end

It's picturesque you're nothing less

Than a hero from a storybook or five

Think you were made for filling hearts and shoes and time

Think I was made so I could do you justice

Don't trust anybody else

To write you half as well as I

Will try

To find the perfect shade of emerald

For your eyes

Oh my god, I think you've really done it this time

Oh my god, don't think that I can make it back

But could you hold on just a little

While I sequence all my scribbles

Into novels filled with stars I'll never send

'Cause I'm essentially a writer

Who never makes it to the end

And maybe when it's over

When the final page is turned

You won't be perfect

Just be you

The boy who likes bands with stupid names and high brow views

And maybe when I'm finished

I'll look down at the image

And magic will be seeping from your finger tips

Somehow I doubt it

'Cause I'll never not believe in you

I'll always see your best

Loving you is a religion

I'm devout I must confess

Oh my god, I think you've really done it this time

Oh my god, don't think that I can make it back

But could you hold on just a little

While I sequence all my scribbles

Into novels filled with stars I'll never send

'Cause I'm essentially a writer

Who never makes it to the end