i built myself a home in your chest
a safe haven, a tightly wrapped package
and you evicted me
i looked at you through my camera lens and saw all the beauty
my eyes had failed to pick up on
the fabric of your soul
the smooth skin of your hands,
twirling your hair in your fingers,
you are beautiful
you are literature
words on a page, kept consistent through years of handwritten notes
passed back and forth between quiet children,
i highlighted my favorite parts of you, and underlined the parts that stood out to me
a well-read novel, dog-eared and leafed through,
i memorized your body,
smiling warmly when you put my emotions into words
i don’t read anymore.
we shared cigarettes together in my car,
letting all the words we were too afraid to speak
leave our mouths in the form of smoke,
leaving only the stale smell of burnt tobacco,
to remember you by
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
i built myself a home in your chest
a safe haven, a tightly wrapped package
and you evicted me
i looked at you through my camera lens and saw all the beauty
my eyes had failed to pick up on
the fabric of your soul
the smooth skin of your hands,
twirling your hair in your fingers,
you are beautiful
you are literature
words on a page, kept consistent through years of handwritten notes
passed back and forth between quiet children,
i highlighted my favorite parts of you, and underlined the parts that stood out to me
a well-read novel, dog-eared and leafed through,
i memorized your body,
smiling warmly when you put my emotions into words
i don’t read anymore.
we shared cigarettes together in my car,
letting all the words we were too afraid to speak
leave our mouths in the form of smoke,
leaving only the stale smell of burnt tobacco,
to remember you by
