for somebody
i think about a lot,
i write about you
very little
and i think it's because
you're safer in these four walls
than on the frail fibres of paper.
you are the feeling i get
when i wake up
and it's sunny.
you are the smile on my face
as a memory takes over my mind.
you are the flower
that everybody trampled on,
but still grew.
i can't choose the right words
because i can't describe
how small you are
in a world as big as this one,
yet you mean all this to me.
you give so much
and take so little.
i am scared there will be
nothing left.
you're safer in my mind
and i know nothing can harm you.
i write about you very little,
but i think about you a lot.
that is not to say that the pages
are empty;
they are full of life,
sprawling with memories
and margin poems,
titled—
for somebody.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 11:16 PM UTC
for somebody
i think about a lot,
i write about you
very little
and i think it's because
you're safer in these four walls
than on the frail fibres of paper.
you are the feeling i get
when i wake up
and it's sunny.
you are the smile on my face
as a memory takes over my mind.
you are the flower
that everybody trampled on,
but still grew.
i can't choose the right words
because i can't describe
how small you are
in a world as big as this one,
yet you mean all this to me.
you give so much
and take so little.
i am scared there will be
nothing left.
you're safer in my mind
and i know nothing can harm you.
i write about you very little,
but i think about you a lot.
that is not to say that the pages
are empty;
they are full of life,
sprawling with memories
and margin poems,
titled—
for somebody.
