it's 1am here
and i can't fall asleep,
don't know of it's all the coffee
or threat of the upcoming week.
but i've talked to my sister, read my book--
i'm out of things to do.
so i guess i'll lie awake
and write some more about you.
we have pictures together on my wall,
places i'd like to go with you, my bucket list cries;
every pop of blue around the room
reminds me of your eyes.
every quote and poem and lyric,
they all sing the same tune
about a boy a girl writes about
every night by the light of the moon.
the letters you've written me
are tucked safely next to my bed,
and i still take them out to read them
even though they're memorized in my head.
maybe it's your handwriting
or the way you try with all your might
to tell me through each word
that it's gonna be alright.
so i'm kinda sorry that
everything reminds me of you,
i guess i'm just in love with
everything you do.