When you try and grab my phone And I grab it back and say no You laugh and ask if I am hiding **** on there I think for a second And that’s probably a better answer than No, I’m hiding the fact the my 20 past poems have been about you. How I use to write about begging to even being able to speak to you. Then how I use to pray we would see each other and talk.
Then how we talked. How we talked and we kind of just kept talking. And how I saw you everyday for a week And then I didn’t see you for a few weeks And how I’ve never been more sad. I have poems written about all the times we talked and exchanged secrets.
So maybe I wish I was hiding **** on my phone. How that would be easier to explain Then all the times I’ve written your name