to the boy born in the rain, who found me between bus stops and...

to the boy born in the rain, who found me between bus stops and Coheed verses, and told me to pray-

to your spoke cards and starlings, sea salt and swear words, your gold dust and the sound of drums,

to standing up for what you believe in,

to believing -

to the boy with sunshine in his take me home eyes, two knives, and a hard crush on a soft rabbit, the kid riding down Grays Ferry with no hands, running through a book store, and burning up the backseat, the one who smells like a fire and dreams of pink sheets, who looks up to his friends, who can’t hide his smile when he’s happy, and who told me god is a responsibility,

to the epitome of Aries, who is never ever far and always loved -

you are always

always loved.

happy happy happy birthday, CJC, with every tight chest feeling i’ve ever had and all of my heart and soul, happy birthday IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY, DUDE!!