march19thsveryown:

There is a point when tears don’t work 
to wash things away anymore. 
Grabbing for breath has now broken my fingers.
I miss You so much some days
that I beg for the airplane to crash
with just enough time in the freefall
for scribbling “I Love You” across my chest. 
That way – when they find my burning breast plate –
they will tell You how the very last thing I did with my life
was call out Your name.

-Buddy Wakefield, My Giant Saint Everything