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thegirlwiththescarsPoems
You, my love, Give me butterflies. Since the day we met, Every time I logged on, They would do a Dance around my stomach. These butterflies, though, Are not the kind I get when I have to talk in front of the class . These butterflies are the beautiful kind. You, my love, Make my heart race. When you say those three special words, It beats faster and faster And the excitement spreads to my face As my lips curl into a smile. This smile, though, Is not the one I put on for The people at school. This smile is genuine happiness, A smile which I rarely see anymore. You, my love, Are just that. My love. I love you.
0
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
My Love
You, my love, Give me butterflies. Since the day we met, Every time I logged on, They would do a Dance around my stomach. These butterflies, though, Are not the kind I get when I have to talk in front of the class . These butterflies are the beautiful kind. You, my love, Make my heart race. When you say those three special words, It beats faster and faster And the excitement spreads to my face As my lips curl into a smile. This smile, though, Is not the one I put on for The people at school. This smile is genuine happiness, A smile which I rarely see anymore. You, my love, Are just that. My love. I love you.
thegirlwiththescars
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thegirlwiththescars
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
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