I donβt believe in the πͺπ―π§π’πππͺπ£πͺππͺπ΅πΊ
Of love, of teenage love.
But you do.
When Iβm around you,
When Iβm π΅π’ππ¬πͺπ―π¨ to you,
All the doubts disappear.
But when itβs just me
I worry, πΈπ°π³π³πΊ, πππππ
That Iβll π₯πͺπ΄πͺπππΆπ΄πͺπ°π― you,
Iβll π₯πͺπ΄π’π±π±π°πͺπ―π΅ you,
Because you thought
That we were made of steel.
You donβt π¬π―π°πΈ that our chances are ππ°πΈ
Of being high-school sweethearts
That make it to the other side.
You donβt π¬π―π°πΈ that when I think of our π§πΆπ΅πΆπ³π¦,
We part ways and come back again.
You donβt π¬π―π°πΈ that I think steel melts
And then can be reforged.
I donβt π¬π―π°πΈ if I want you to.
I feel so π―π’πͺπ·π¦ sometimes,
But I swear youβre even more π―π’πͺπ·π¦
Than me.
I want to protect you.
But I donβt believe in the πͺπ―π§π’πππͺπ£πͺππͺπ΅πΊ
Of love, of teenage love.
I donβt believe in πͺπ―π§π’πππͺπ£πͺππͺπ΅πΊ.
But I believe in ππ.
Hmm anxiety sure makes for good poetry