Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2014
it doesnt matter where it all started

it doesnt matter that the first conversation
we ever had
started about me enquiring
over some parma violets

what matters is
the first time he came to my house
he laid on my kitchen floor
and complained about the weather

what matter is
him complaining
over me
wanting to watch the notebook

what matters is
me feeling like
this whole thing is
slowly slipping
until he grabs me
and steadies my feet
and tells me
i was stupid
for walking on ice

what matters is
the lack of making love
but the connection
that exists

what matters is
not his cowardice
or my reluctancy
but the fact they both fit
so perfectly
hand in hand

what matters is
the way his hair
jolts round his face
and haircuts
dont make any difference

what matters is
the way he takes off his shirt
and scrunches up his face
when hes in pain

what matters is
the way he touches
all my belongings
and goes
on my computer
just to see
what i was doing last

what matters is
my mom likes him
and he's told his
all about me

what matters is
no labels
or commitments
or dates

but the way
we were sleeping
and he held me
and wouldnt let go
underthetree
Written by
underthetree
397
   kate, Emily Pidduck and furies
Please log in to view and add comments on poems