You can't cure my
pains ـــــ ,
But you can cure me
⨍𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 .

that’s just it?
isn’t it.

the little patter of rain
half eaten sandwich
and awkward angles
Squished between all the I love yous
and miss yous

hoping when you say ‘come round again!’
they get the chance to

I'm done with people being surprised by my speaking
Not knowing what to say
Being scared off
I know I can be intense
I'm sorry

I love deeply and I want to say it all
But I know I can't
I'm too intense
But it's hard to pretend
People mean less to me than they do
To some people out there
I have so many messages
I know are just
Too much
For me to send

some will draw lines in the sand
few will chisel out craters
many a line of chalk

and when the rest come
going about their day
They will have soil slipping out of their pockets
And rain following their wake

to pretend like nothing was there, anyways