I give her my jacket knowing when she’s gone
It will still smell like her hugs
Putting my arm around her shoulders is more honest
Than when I raise my arm to the square
I don’t know where she is going in life
But I wouldn’t mind if it were the same place I was
The wind blows silently when she is speaking
Because even the flowers want to listen
If her smile were a disease, I would gladly infect myself
Especially if there were no vaccine
My chest is an air mattress when her head rests against it
I don’t mind when it deflates, brining her a little closer
Even in the winter I can smell fresh-cut grass
And it brings back memories I wish she were a part of
If I were made of mirror, when she looked at me
She might understand why I stare
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 4:35 PM UTC
I give her my jacket knowing when she’s gone
It will still smell like her hugs
Putting my arm around her shoulders is more honest
Than when I raise my arm to the square
I don’t know where she is going in life
But I wouldn’t mind if it were the same place I was
The wind blows silently when she is speaking
Because even the flowers want to listen
If her smile were a disease, I would gladly infect myself
Especially if there were no vaccine
My chest is an air mattress when her head rests against it
I don’t mind when it deflates, brining her a little closer
Even in the winter I can smell fresh-cut grass
And it brings back memories I wish she were a part of
If I were made of mirror, when she looked at me
She might understand why I stare
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