“Are you cold?”
“Yes”
“Put your hands in my pockets, it’s not weird.”

How is it that you can turn something so ordinary into something so intimate?

I may have put my hands in your pockets that night but you put your hands on my heart.

From that day on I gave you permission to put your hands in my pockets as well.  

It’s not weird.

“Come here”
“That’s my pocket”
“Yeah, we are kind of known for those aren’t we?”

Have you ever noticed how no matter where you go that you can always find a pocket?

You may think that pockets were special to us but let me tell you, everyone has them.

From that day on pockets became my new favorite thing, especially when they were yours.

It’s not weird.

“Is everything okay?”
“I think we need a break.”
“Stop playing with your pockets and talk to me!”

How come everything that’s good in the world always has to come to such a bitter end?

I may not have been as important to you, but you and your stupid pockets became everything to me!

From that day on I looked for you and your pockets everywhere.

It’s not weird.

“Do you always skate with your hands in your pockets?”
“Just when you’re around.”
“Of course you would say that.”

Have you ever even noticed that I don’t wear jeans anymore, or that my jacket pockets stay zipped?

You may have seen that if you weren’t so focused on entertaining other girls.

From that day on pockets and everything related became the bane of my existence.

It’ not weird.

“Are you cold?”
“Don’t you remember? I’m always cold.”
“Put your hands in your pockets, it won’t hurt.”

How come people always try to simplify and eliminate the pain they’ve never felt?

I may not be the only girl you will ever be with but I promise, nobody will ever appreciate something as little as your pockets like me.

From that day on I ignored you and your pockets to the best of my broken ability.

“You didn’t come to my game.”
“Just put your hands in your pockets and go.”
“I’m sorry.”

Have you ever noticed how you only feel bad about the way you make others feel after you experience the hurt as well?

You may not think you did anything to hurt me but my heart breaks every time I look from your blue eyes to your blue jeans and their stupid pockets.  

From this day on I refuse to let you and your pockets cloud up my mind and life.

It was always weird.

Pockets
Ive got pockets on my jacket
And pockets on my coat
Pockets on my bumbag
And pockets on my non-existent boat

Ive got pockets on my bicycle
And pockets by my eyes
Pockets on my underthings
To keep away the flies!

Ive got pockets that i did not pick
And pockets full of air
Pockets full of nonsense
And pockets everywhere

Some of my pockets don't exist
And some are quite surreal
Including a little lost pocket, in a locket
And a hidden one in my heel

Some of my pockets are disguised as bags
Or a Pandoras box, and some such thing
But my favourite little pocket
Is within a secret magical ring

Which once delved into
Leads me to another world
Where there are no pockets of any kind
Just a myriad of mysteries, yet to be unfurled

by Jemia