Your touch feels like flower petals
Your embrace a knitted sweater
You are a hole-in-the-wall diner
Within all of New York's madness
You are the feeling of the shirt I always sleep in
You are wood and you are cotton
I think clouds are made up of your hello's and your I-love-you's
You are where I go when it starts to pour
You are who I call when its 2:38am and it starts getting bad again
You are shore among the savage sea
You are the eye of my storm
You feel like the feeling of grass under my feet
You are the scent of coffee and leatherbound notebooks
You are everything I love
You are worth any commute
You are who I hope to come to
every evening
You are home
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 3:29 AM UTC
Your touch feels like flower petals
Your embrace a knitted sweater
You are a hole-in-the-wall diner
Within all of New York's madness
You are the feeling of the shirt I always sleep in
You are wood and you are cotton
I think clouds are made up of your hello's and your I-love-you's
You are where I go when it starts to pour
You are who I call when its 2:38am and it starts getting bad again
You are shore among the savage sea
You are the eye of my storm
You feel like the feeling of grass under my feet
You are the scent of coffee and leatherbound notebooks
You are everything I love
You are worth any commute
You are who I hope to come to
every evening
You are home
