I want to tell you things only you will understand.
I want to feel my hair running through your unkempt hands.
I want to make you a symphony out of everything you’ve ever done for me.
And then I want to direct the melodies through the air and through your ears.
And I want to keep them there.
I want them to sing you to sleep each night you are afraid to close your eyes.
And I want you to know you’re the person I want to write poetry to.
How can I make you comprehend that I feel your pain in the darkest of days,
That when you’re too scared to look back and too tired to look ahead, I’ll sing my refrain until the end.
When you feel like the world is out to get you and the sun will never shine again,
Let my whispers echo through your head:
You’re the person I want to write poetry to.
Once you’ve realize it’s all for naught,
That there are no words, no feelings, no lessons left to be taught and all the wars have already been fought.
When there are no more open doors, I want to take you by the hand and give you all the things that won’t exist and all the things you’ve never felt before, and then tell you that
you’re the person I want to write poetry to.
At any time of day
Under the moon or under the sun
In silence and solace
Or chaos and loudness
You’re the person I want to write poetry to.
Whenever you’ve hurt me
Or whenever you’ve loved me
Whenever I am no one and on those lucky days that there is no one else above me,
You are the person I want to write poetry to.
When I see the tears in your eyes and hear the truth in between the lines,
When your smile brightens the darkest of rooms and your laugh is undeniably true,
You’re the person I want to write poetry to.
Every time you slip and stumble and your heart is close to crumbling to the ground
I’ll wrap your wounds with words and tell you that you are the person I want to write poetry to.
Even when your song is loudest and you need no one else to sing,
I’ll be there echoing:
You are the person I want to write poetry to.
Because sometimes even the good days are bad and you’re unsure of how to be happy without being mad.
Sometimes everything isn’t enough and it seems like the road will always be this rough.
And those are the days
And those are the times
when I’ll be there by your side
Conducting the symphony you’ve helped me to create
Whispering words only you would understand
And as you run my hair through your unkempt hands I’ll remind you that you,
You are the person I want to write poetry to.