Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I can't quantify the eternity I've spent in your arms but my calendar defines it as four weeks of sleepless nights and waking up without regrets thirty one days of memorizing the lines of your chest and the rhythm of your racing heartbeat seven hundred hours of laughing at nothing, simply because my overflowing happiness needs to spill out somewhere forty five thousand minutes that I couldn't imagine spending with anyone else but you but time is a funny concept in many ways because I could spend seven days without leaving your side and the lightest touch of your hand would still make my knees grow weak, because there is something terrifying about the thought of being apart for more than 24 hours that puts me in a hopeless daze, because sixty minutes of listening to you talk is enough to convince me that I'll never settle down until we can call the night sky ours, because a mere sixty seconds in your arms can make even the universe seem minute. but even though its been more than two and a half million seconds every morning you are always the first thing on my mind
0
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
ciclo della luna
I can't quantify the eternity I've spent in your arms but my calendar defines it as four weeks of sleepless nights and waking up without regrets thirty one days of memorizing the lines of your chest and the rhythm of your racing heartbeat seven hundred hours of laughing at nothing, simply because my overflowing happiness needs to spill out somewhere forty five thousand minutes that I couldn't imagine spending with anyone else but you but time is a funny concept in many ways because I could spend seven days without leaving your side and the lightest touch of your hand would still make my knees grow weak, because there is something terrifying about the thought of being apart for more than 24 hours that puts me in a hopeless daze, because sixty minutes of listening to you talk is enough to convince me that I'll never settle down until we can call the night sky ours, because a mere sixty seconds in your arms can make even the universe seem minute. but even though its been more than two and a half million seconds every morning you are always the first thing on my mind
alyssa-yu
Written by
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem