Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
I simply need that connection I have with
My friends, the ones who I don’t get to talk to
Often, that have all but disappeared from
My life, but I can still see them on the screen.
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
I like to read stories and poems,
Browse the Internet’s fanfiction,
Write my own works, and receive feedback
From friends and critics alike.
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
I just worry about the people I care about,
Wanting to know where they are
And what they are doing;
Not unlike the protective nature you have with me.
Mom, I’m not addicted to my phone.
Sometimes, I just need to check the time.

I love your eyes and the way they meet mine
I love your lips and their taste of cherry wine

I need your touch like I need air
I need your smile I can’t help but stare

I feel the warmth of your presence
I feel the envy of your effervescence

I beg to be by your side
I beg to be your guide

I see a bit of us in everything I do
I see a world I’d love to explore with you

I hear your voice in my soundest sleep
I hear your laugh in my mind so deep

I smell your deodorant on the clothes I wear
I smell your scent lingering in the air

I can’t live without you here
I can’t live alone in fear

I miss your lovely eyes too much
I miss your sizzling electric touch

I need you to be mine
I need you to make me fine

I am happy when you’re around
I am happy when you’re safe and sound

I think of you in my waking hours
I think of you through the sweet and sours

I hope one day you can see my love
I hope one day we can meet above

kiss me in your backseat
like nothing has ever been like this before
'cause you kiss like a promise
like you have never wanted anything more
than me

and just maybe, i'm crazy about you baby
and i guess it's a mess but i've always loved messy
things

and with your lips on my neck, i feel like the best is yet to come
and with my heart on my sleeve, i hope you can see it beats like a drum

and i'm wrapped around your finger and my gaze might just linger on your face
and i can't help but notice what we've made of this moment in this place

is beautiful
you're beautiful.

in the streetlights, with your brown eyes looking into my heart
hold me tighter, with your bright lights lighting up the dark
you're lighting up

When people ask me
Why poetry
Why not pick a paying profession

Take hold this truth
That I'm laying on you
In which there is a valuable lesson

If you do what you like
You're going to find
Life holds treasure in wonder

Instead of the dough
Taking you out in its tow
And then pulling you under

When you're doing things
Think more the gifts they bring
And not money to be made

When people ask me
Why poetry
Do I really need to say