I love it
To be seen
I love it when you hug me
Like it's beeen years
Since you've seen me
So warm and wrapped tight.
I love it
Tell me you love me
I feel the vulnerbility in you
As well as myself
And when I reply
You almost always
And then kiss me.
I simply cannot determine
What it is that I love more
The way you hold me
The way you kiss me
The way you love me
But it's okay because
At the end of the day
I love it all.
You will find love.
She will come unexpectedly,
you won't see her coming.
She will have hair as soft as sand
and eyes so bright you will swear
you'll be able to survive without the sun
so long as she is looking at you.
She will be the first girl to ever reject you.
Mainly because she will be too caught up
inside fictional characters and loud music.
You will find her with her head in a book,
a coffee cup in her hand and the widest
smile you'll ever see.
You will make her fall for you,
and you'll constantly have this feeling
in your chest that will let you know
you have everything you need.
Your heart will be beating so fast
and so hard you will feel it
almost bursting from your ribcage.
You will fall in love with her laugh
and the way she always seems to stain
your shirts with coffee
when she wears them.
They always will look better on her.
It will feel like a dream. You will constantly
worry that she will find someone better,
someone who likes the same bands
and books as her.
When she does, you will burry yourself
in women who have the same color eyes
as her. You will drink shot after shot
in hopes of forgetting her name –
we both know you will end up
forgetting your own first.
I think the saddest death
is not of a person,
but of love.
Sometimes you can tell when love is dead
by the broken glass on the floor
and the sound of slamming
door that shakes the whole house.
But sometimes, it surfaces
by the dishes in the sink,
that have sat idle for the past three weeks.
Sometimes it's broken teeth on
empty 32 oz. vodka bottles
that still can not get you
drunk enough to forget
the sound of her voice.
Sometimes it's silent
and sometimes it is as blatant
as a flash of lightening
in the middle of a storm.
And that's it.
Love is dead.
I had a word, word, word
That once I heard, heard, heard.
The word was nice, nice, nice,
I've used it twice, twice, twice.
But then it broke, broke, broke,
Went up in smoke, smoke, smoke.
And I was left, left, left,
With just a cleft, cleft, cleft.
The word's now gone, gone, gone,
And I'm alone, lone, lone,
Alone, lone, lone.