they don't understand,
and they never will.
our love isn't just afternoon tea with honey,
or sunrises on rooftops.
It's not *** and candy,
long drives at night,
star gazing or constellation counting.
Not breathless midnight strolls,
or screaming for our sins to wake up the neighborhood.
It isn't even our enveloped hands or public demonstration of affection.
It's your poetic kiss on my skin,
whispering choruses of lost love songs,
and tracing hearts on my back.
It's your acceptance to my flaws,
letting me know you love me anyways.
It's our word against their's,
because they don't know us,
and they'll just never understand.
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
they don't understand,
and they never will.
our love isn't just afternoon tea with honey,
or sunrises on rooftops.
It's not *** and candy,
long drives at night,
star gazing or constellation counting.
Not breathless midnight strolls,
or screaming for our sins to wake up the neighborhood.
It isn't even our enveloped hands or public demonstration of affection.
It's your poetic kiss on my skin,
whispering choruses of lost love songs,
and tracing hearts on my back.
It's your acceptance to my flaws,
letting me know you love me anyways.
It's our word against their's,
because they don't know us,
and they'll just never understand.
