Rest your face in these hands of mine No grasp or claspe necessary As steaming whisps escape your peppermint lips I realize this That you aren't even close to a distant memory, no You are just as clay A white lipped cup of herbal tea Intoxicating and soothing Dulcetly flooding all of these cold November senses in me
A younger me didn't write like this. A younger me didn't enjoy IT this much.
Gravitating toward home with its star stained skyline a latch on every door torn over coffee the smell of peppermint a tear here where tears have been the hope of a stranger helping to embolden an empty cup pouring.
"i'm always fine" i've said that line a thousand times before that everything's okay i'm sunny, i'm funny, don't touch me don't call my name like it's yours i see blurs of peppermint and fingerprints a hedonistic temperment supplying my internal wars that you don't have to fight and it’s not your fault but don't assume this is easy for me to be what we were once, formerly i feel too much, i overheat, you touch me and i stall