im addicted to you to your laugh and your smiles your "i havent seen you around in a while" 's and i've made most of it up in my mind anyway i romanticize the little things like your bedroom and the way your t shirt clings i can see our future so clearly its scary its not happily ever after by any means but its enough for now its enough for us in our teens
Your passion blooms yellow, Like the smile of a rising sun. The wind blows, and the daffodils bellow; They echo a crescendo - their spring has begun.
Their song flows across the ground, Blooming budding emotions in its wake. The nectar dampening the soil mound Has enough oxytocin to make a soul ache.
These daffodils grew over the snow in my lawn, Melting the cold as their roots gripped the earth. I kept warm among the blossoms as the hours rolled on. My mind gradually defrosted - like a cerebral rebirth.
My winter has mostly ended, indicated by each perennial. I have you to thank for planting the first bulb out there - Double digging the stubborn dirt, yet remaining congenial, Despite the unfit sod and icy air.
I owe it to you that I've recovered whatsoever: My cognitive crime scene, solved with your empathetic luminol. Perhaps young love is a foolish endeavor, But if that's so, then I'm the most foolish fool of all.
So I'll unabashedly listen to your daffodil crescendo, And resonate with the joy in your living rhythm. I'll plant you some chrysanthemums to match in yellow, So we can sit together with them.
Our world was cemented fresh linoleum tile you always bent down to reach my voice, I was so sweet, I feel so vile. You tell her she reminds you of daisies and August sunshine I smell out the ***** of cinnamon, I am canine, thought you were mine.
I know she's breathless as you shake the bed, dancing dyad, snowed with asbestos. And I could be edgeless sand myself down just for you. Polish every crevice, I am god in a teenage body I could be edgeless like a marble cast of paresis settled upon your pew.
Street cleaners gather beneath crisp tree leaves, Collecting cloudy tears along the hem of their hoods, Their oversized coats reminding me of the night we shared a bench within the downpour of the city, You demanded I kept my hood down, Allowing raindrops to trickle atop the bridge of my nose As your fingers traced the cherry red tips of my ears, I spent many minutes contemplating how I would explain my state to my mother, Settling on the notion to flee to my room the moment I returned, Soon enough sense turned hazy, Your violet lips nicked my own, In a sickly speed.
You're scent is best forgotten. Yet I remember your cinnamon hair, Everytime the breeze carried the warm smell to my nose I smiled. Because it meant you were still there with me. We weren't in love, Because we are and were, too young to be having such big emotions. But I know that whenever I catch the scent of cinnamon on an afternoon autumn breeze.
Awake! Awake! Please awake! The only words she knew as the breath leaves my being As she sobs, I gained strength When she stops, my life drifts away. She's connected with me.
Live! Live! Please live! Without you I am nothing, I was touched So deep within my wounds, I felt love sinking through I was so infatuated. Even love can heal and I got to experience that.
Breathe! Breathe! Please breathe! I need you here with me for I am nothing without thee She vented with her tears, she screamed in anger I was the hope for her living, the reason at that She was in love with me.
Don't go! Don't go! Please don't go! I was at the edge of life, It was my time to leave scorched earth. She wept and in her arms is where I died. She killed herself and I think that was love.
Inspired by past relationships and the relationships that some of my closest friends have been in.