I want someone who sees my freckles as galaxies
And my scars as stories.
Who tells me my eyes are beautiful
And that my crooked teeth are charming.
I need someone who makes me feel as happy
As I feel when I write poetry.
Who makes me realize that I don’t need a lover,
But sometimes it’s okay to want one.
Then I realize as I trace the freckles on my arm,
That I already see them as galaxies.
And I know the stories behind my scars.
My eyes are my favorite feature
And **** my crooked teeth are awesome.
I write poetry and it makes me happy,
So why do I want a person to share that with?
I have everything here,
I love myself more than anyone could ever love me.