Whenever I try to tell him
How he makes me feel,
Why he shouldn't leave
I fall bereft of words.
I just can't say that he has planted himself in my heart
And is burgeoning from my limbs
Encasing me in a bush of red, red roses.
The thorns of his wild side ***** my paper skin
Like sharp words flying from his witty mouth.
I don't find myself capable of
Reminding him that he is a sole source
Of everlasting happiness
That begins deep in my toes
And weaves its way up to my mind
Intertwining and capturing my thoughts
Keeping me from tearing myself to atom-sized pieces.
And every time he's around I lose that train of thought
Because he makes me forget.
And I wouldn't mind not remembering things
If it means that he would be
In my heart,
On my mind,
By my side,
Held by my arms.
No
I wouldn't mind at all.