"worriedly" poems
*It is the little things in life, which mean so much
They are very quietly innocent
Like the wondrous feel of a clean bed sheets touch
Infused with an April Fresh Downy scent
Waking up startled at a quarter past eight
Jumping up straight from bed
Thinking worriedly that I am going to be terribly late
Remembering, it’s my day off instead
Coming to terms, that to my name, I’ve not a dime
Accepting my usual penniless lot
Then there in the pocket of my faded jeans I find
A crumpled up, forgotten five spot
Sitting down now with my paper and pen
Searching for words to write
Thinking to myself, my mind has gone blank again
Then finding the ones, perfectly right
To win the lottery or an all expense paid vacation
Would be so incredibly nice
However, I will settle, for these small sensations
Any ole day of my life*
Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 6:33 PM UTC
I was on bed then clueless about my life.
I remember three years ago, it was a strife.
I was made to realize by pain of being alive.
The procedure of tracheotomy was done.
The other nose was cut into my windpipe.
The lower end of my throat was bandaged.
The two navels are located on my stomach.
The second navel was gained at the hospital.
The upper navel is not always here to be seen.
Blankly I stared at the world in front of me.
Bluntly I stared at a big wall in front of me.
Bleakly I stared at people coming to see me.
They would come few in numbers initially.
That time is something I can't recall clearly.
Then I was home worriedly waiting for him.
The eternal-seeming torture period started then.
The dreaded physiotherapist used to come then.
The kind man was renamed ***physio the ******
He caused me great pain, I was like a 3-year old.
He saw me writhe in pain & I begged for mercy.
He continued coming & I remained terrorized.
I used to ask my parents if they're actually mine.
I was made to disbelieve in them as my parents.
I took numbing pills directly into my stomach.
I used to remain in sheer terror all day long.
I took offence at the sound of the doorbell itself.
I was asking my parents if someone would come.
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
Evening darkens upon the moors,
Forgiveness—a hairless thing
skirting the headlamps, fugitive.
Why have we come,
traversing the long miles
and extremities of solitude,
worriedly crisscrossing the wrong maps
with directions
obtained from passing strangers?
Why do we sit,
frantically retracing
love’s long-forgotten signal points
with cramping, ink-stained fingers?
Why the preemptive frowns,
the litigious silences,
when only yesterday we watched
as, out of an autumn sky this vast,
over an orchard or an onion field,
wild Vs of distressed geese
sped across the moon’s face,
the sound of their panicked wings
like our alarmed hearts
pounding in unison?
My family did get lost in an English moor on a dark moonless night. It happened when I was a boy. My mother was driving and seemed to have no idea where we were, or which direction to head. I wondered if we would ever find civilization again. It was a very spooky experience that I drew on for my poem. Keywords/Tags: England, Devon, moor, car, headlamps, headlights, directions, maps, points, routes, strangers, signals, orchard, field, geese, hearts, relationships, parting, separation, divorce, loneliness, alienation, free verse
Feb 27, 2020
Feb 27, 2020 at 2:10 AM UTC
I remember the naivety
It was like swimming in an ocean
The waves prelapsing onto my skin
Freezing cold
But I stayed.
I stayed in the water allowing my to nerves scream
Screaming for warmth.
Yet my body filled with lust told me to stay.
It began to become warmer
So I stayed in longer.
I had hoped it would fill the vulnerable space I had open.
I let it fill me with salty cold water.
The skin on my fingers and toes began to fold.
Whispering upon the folds worriedly
'Enough'.
I resisted
'ENOUGH' the folds screamed.
My legs begin to move towards the oceans shore.
The water droplets trickle down slowly but surely
My face,
My lips,
My body,
Now exposed to what used to be welcoming air.
The air now filled with angry wind, whips my body,
Harshly shouting 'Why, o why?'
'Why have you given your body to the ocean?'
My lips, unable to move shiver against the wind's whips.
'Guide me back' my hair says trembling with mercy, damp of water.
The wind's whips weaken.
'Follow the path',
'Follow the path of rightousness'
The wind forgivingly breathes into my lungs
Gasping, finally giving me the warmth and sweet taste of air
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
My local pharmacy
was exceptionally busy today
Worriedly,I scan the pharmacy line
For any signs of people;
coughing, sick, in any way
I don’t have a mask I’m not protected
My mind was freaking out
after all those sick people came
For medication
of one kind or another
People are dying
Have they been around
Someone with the flu
Nursing them, contagious
Nervously I wait.
They call my name
No information,silently
The pharmacist grabs an arm,
sticks the needle in my arm
gives me the shot
Pushes the medicine in
Hands me a paper
Consequently Telling me , as he walks away
“It takes ten days before Your protected”
I sit there swimming with questions
He is gone
As I walk from the store
Several sensations occur immediately
My arm hurts instantly
At the shot sight
Although the needle was tiny
throbbing pain works it’s way
Down my whole arm
By the time I start the car
My head is pounding
Within the first block
My head is pounding so much
It hurts behind my eyes
Anxiety of the unknown symptoms sets in
I have alway been very careful
Getting behind the wheel of a car
On any medication
“I can make it home”
I chant as I drive
“I’m close, almost there”
My body feels strange
I’m home in 7 minutes
I’m safe breath, sigh relax
My chest feels like
someone’s sitting on it
It’s hard to breathe
My oxygen saturation level
drops into the mid 80s
I make sure my husband knows
Where the paperwork is
As I explain to him all my symptoms
Reactions to the flu shot
I feel euphoric
nauseous consumes me, holding it in
Vomiting is dangerous for me taking
time releases medications
I take something for the stomach
Pulling on my pjs And climbing into bed
Making dinner, not an option
I wake up 4 hours later
My symptoms have leveled out
The chest still tight breathing a bit less labored
However,All other symptoms
Have exacerbated
an aching in all my joints
I mange to eat leftovers
my stomach feels better
My head still in a fog
The next day is a struggle
To get moving
I realize how strong
this strain of the flu is
I get the flu shot every year
And have never experienced
These reactions
I know everyone is different
But take caution when getting the flu shot
Go home immediately afterwards
Preferably have someone with you
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC
I ran through the near dead fields
Turned my face to look at the approaching sun
Saw a friend up ahead who'd taken the lead
Man, I remember how that ****** could run
He saw my eyes then glanced away
Running with hastier speed up ahead
I lurched my back, holding a minute to stay
Then pushed my corpse forward like pencil lead
Crashing gulls flicked their beaks skyward
Waves soared worriedly & quietly
I put down my pack, scanning the horizon skyward
Searching for a message that lay discretely
The God's had planned this place with no certain goal
An experiment made from the cauldrons of the unknown
A transparent figure dances with smooth dead marble
The echo of my voice becomes a fond youthful warble
Tell the cities, the farms, the outhouses, and all of nature
That the beauty that lay there is all we need
Money is nothing but a cat n' mouse in the pasture
The grinning Devil's heavy hearted plead
He reached the peak of the mountain
He sat there high & proud, taking out his fountain
Eyes meeting he stepped off, a note left, away from me forever
He was always stubborn, always so ****** clever
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 11:38 AM UTC
The late afternoon sun
peeks worriedly through the window
, too afraid to touch the bed
on which I lie
living , next to the dead.
He breaths faintly
, a whispered ghost
morbidly fatigued by
the loneliness he chokes on.
Every breath is a lifetime
and this immortal man
has died like the old gods
over and over again.
His bones rattle as his
spirit tirelessly shakes
and shudders in the cold
of his heart.
Although sweat poured
out of every overheated part
of his broken body...
I could see winter
on the horizon of
his faded eyes.
That is when I knew
that summer never came
over the thresholds of
such a broken life.
And inside his soul gave up
playing his ribs like
an anxious xylophone.
Summer never came,
but I fear winter
is in fact
closer to it's inevitable absence.
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
New year’s Day is just another day
I celebrate it in a different way
Don’t want to drink tasty wine
And dance with beautiful women
I don’t believe in the ritual
A festival should be more spiritual
I don’t spend a day merrily
And the next day worriedly
I don’t want to voraciously eat food
Like animals in the wood
And visit friends’ houses
To give costly flower bouquets
Instead I want to introspect
With a retrospective effect
What did I do last year?
Were my goals really clear?
I will plan for the New Year
And implement it without any fear
Set very small things as my target
And try to reach them as a rocket
Dec 29, 2010
Dec 29, 2010 at 12:07 AM UTC
A quick shimmer
of glittering, blinding light
peers down at me
worriedly
through the green,
leafy tree tops
and I turn
my sleeping body round
covering myself
in a blanket of earth
hiding my half-opened eyes
in a pillow of leaves
as the bright rays
continue to call
good morning, good morning
and I groan
five more minutes, sun
but the beaming light
is hard to ignore
as my skin soaks
in its warmth
so I give in
and peel myself off the ground
and listen
to the rumbling waters of a nearby river
as they whisper
good morning, good morning.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
I sometimes write
Of stories and fantasies
And these words spill from my fingers
Frighteningly effortlessly as they tell
Of passionate romances and crushing heart shatters and death of innocence
But I've never felt these things and
I feel fraudulent and cruel
Claiming feelings to which I have no right
And I wonder where these words come from that
Spill so easily from my finger tips
Because they aren't from experience
And they aren't true
Rereading them only embarrasses and confuses me
So should I validate them at all?
Mom peers at me worriedly as I try to convince her that I only used first person for form purposes
As I try to prove to her that this was (some bizarre) imagination and not some reality she wasn't aware of
I don't know how a kiss would feel on my lips.
Love and infatuation are strangers to my heart and mind.
I don't know how it hurts to be truly rejected or hated by someone I love.
To be so enraptured in someone else that the lines between us fade: a foreign and unfamiliar concept to my soul.
I don't know how hard it is to make mistakes in romances.
I've never come home giddy and unable to stop smiling because of a boy.
I don't know.
There's so very much I do not know.
And the absence of that knowledge feels like an object I don't have a place for inside my home of a mind.
Awkward and in the way and too obvious
But I don't know if I want to get rid of it yet.
It's oddity has become a part of me,
And it's absence would mean grieving a change
I'm not prepared for.
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 12:37 AM UTC
I don’t want to spend Christmas
Drinking tasty wine
And dancing with beautiful women
I don’t believe in the theory of
Enjoying a day very merrily
And the other day worriedly
Jesus lived and died
For certain divine values
LOVE
PEACE
MERCY
KINDNESS
SACRIFICE
AND FORGIVENESS
The values I cherish
Because only they make me flourish
Or else I will perish
Let’s all the eternal principles nourish
Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 8:42 PM UTC
Currently
Grasping the fraying rope
At both ends
Firm hold
Keeping us
From splitting in two
Just as I ought to
Currently
Worriedly pacing the floorboards
Before mortars
Waiting for a knock on my door or
A phone call if you’re savvy or
An SMS like a daddy
Angry and in all caps to his daughter because she defied her father and stayed out longer than she oughta
And I’m currently
Physically staying in place and
Mentally running away, 3 p.m. train to a better day
Like the teenage girl who was ****** cause she had to be home at 10:30 and it wasn’t even a school day
But hey
I digress currently
Hurriedly thinking of everything beautiful in life to decide
If it’s worth it
The answers sit unaware like prey
The questions come back like predators and they’re lurking
If Jesus was a thief, should I be stealing or learning
Is thinking helping or hurting
It sounds good on paper but the feeling’s disconcerting
Bending and turning
Waist deep in a swift current currently on bended knee
Scanning skies for an elusive heaven
Waiting on something, but not too surely, for if salvation decides not to come to me
I’d walk anywhere to the crystal stair
To get me where
I want to be
I’ll get there eventually
Even though I’m not there yet I won’t let it start disturbing me
Currently
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
circular pathways
but some grinning thief
has made off with every aspect
of direction he could pry
off the roadsings
so the soft hand normal Joe's
all just pile up in a corner looking worriedly
at the passing crowds
hoping to catch some mental relief
for their moral delemias
and tickets to ride the soft ride
they are the nine to five crowd
and its hard for them to digest all
this street kid lingo
all this dark of night dumpster dive
she squats in the road to pass gas
and pick her own pocket for its
semblance of change
the hover kings stand round and
keep a wary eye on her proceedings
after all its only natural
they are depending on her for cash flow
but all she has managed so far is to
get tears flowing
she thouse one of thouse break
your hearts over and over kind of faces
she rescues the normal Joe's sends em on their way
the sunbelt in winter
and after all the barnburners
have packed up their stainless steel plastic wear
and formed a caravan of semi's headed ever south
into the industrial lights of miami night
it comes down to people like her
and her very human open hearted approach
to make this day worth living through
its her rough but realistic hopes
that make this day worth believing
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 8:11 AM UTC
One mysterious day , I woke up lately...
Striving still,to finish the broken dream completely.
Peeping out from the windows, were the Sun's glow.
But I was in no mood to give up my pillow....
With an eye opened and other closed.....stretching and yawning, I did shut the windows.
Though that moment, something more worse awaited for me, surely.
Seeing which i even cried, worriedly.....
Dirts scattered here and dirts scattered there,
smiling at me like a devil, present there.....
Next moment, I was sitting in the empty room,
holding in hand.....a stupid BROOM !!!!
Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 5:55 AM UTC
Sheila enters the kitchen
where her mother is
at the stove cooking.
You've still got
that muck around your eyes,
get it off I said, her mother says,
first words, eyeing her.
I will, Sheila says,
what did you want me for?
Ella said you wanted me.
Her mother studies her
for few seconds.
O yes, Ella said
something about you
seeing a boy at school,
what boy is this,
and why are you
seeing a boy,
and at your age?
Her mother says,
standing hands on hips,
eyes peering as if
they were hooks
to reel in the truth
from Sheila's head.
Just a boy I was talking with,
that's all, no big deal,
Sheila says.
I'll tell you if it's a big deal,
as you call it,
and besides Ella said
you were sitting
on the grass with him;
I hope you are not
up to something, my girl,
I won't have it,
her mother says.
We just talked,
and what do you
mean up to something?
What something
do you mean?
Sheila says,
her voice rising
a bit above
her normal level.
Don't you raise your
voice to me, young girl,
or we will be having words,
her mother says,
her voice louder than usual.
We are having words,
Sheila says, anyway,
I was just talking to him,
nothing else, despite
what that holy ***** Ella says.
Her mother peers down at her,
her hand ready to slap
Sheila's face, she takes
a huge intake of breath,
then sits down in one
of the nearby chairs,
and holds her breast,
and looks at Sheila.
My asthma, don't get me
wound up, now go
wash that muck off,
and don't answer back,
and leave boys alone
until you are old enough
to handle them.
Her mother sits back,
and closes her eyes.
Sheila stands there worriedly.
Sorry you get you riled,
and shall I get your
asthma mask?
Sheila says.
Her mother nods,
and puts her hands
on her knees.
Sheila brings the mask,
and gives it to her mother,
then stands watching
her put the mask on,
and take deep breathes;
she's seen it all before,
like watching
a thousand deaths.
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 2:27 AM UTC
I've been holding back the tears
For years and trying to be strong
enough to hold this for so long.
Try to smile and understand
every situation just not to disturb
and cause any trouble to anyone.
And then that night I burst into tears
for I cannot hold it anymore,
and then he asked worriedly..
"Why are you crying?"
I keep on crying and crying,
heavily, I barely breath, then all I can say is,
"I don't know if you do understand me"
My tone sounds begging
for him to finally understand me,
the pain he unconsciously putting on me
And then he answered,
"Babe, I do understand you,
I just don't know what to do"
Now I don't know which
hurts me more,
The thought of he does not
actually understand the pain
that I am going through,
Or the fact that he knows
about it but doesn't care that much
that left him nothing to do
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 5:44 AM UTC
I sit on this comfortable branch
I have worn grooves into the bark
with talons grasp I have weathered many storms.
There was then a wind blowing in January
that made the limb sway and I worriedly cooed,
I was so sure this storm would pass on, as all the others had,
I loved the home, I perched on;
felt as safe as in a nest,
the winds of change blew;
and I found I must fly again
into the cold winds of change,
I soar again.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
That thing you gave me—
I have it still
all these years later.
I found it the other day,
half-hidden, like a folded sweater
in a forgotten trunk.
You were young then,
lovely, haggard
like an orchid softly wilting
in unforgiving heat.
Wasting amazon,
pain deep within your legs,
resting like a queen
on a stone sarcophagus.
When the boy read to you,
did you hear his stumbling words,
from the frayed blue book?
Or was your troubled mind
wandering elsewhere,
on some trackless, stubbled field?
He felt only the touch of your hand
on his hair, the warm pulse of your breath
on his forehead and eyelashes.
In the church balcony:
Water Music.
Fingers stretched above the keys,
pipe ***** bright and sonorous.
Down below, the congregants
gazed upon the pulpit
awaiting the benediction.
Soul souring,
heart filling.
God was great.
Shimmering like Artemis in her glade,
you stood reflected in a mirror
on the closet door,
gowned in emerald satin—
a last look at makeup
before he calls upstairs
that the car is ready.
You smiled
as you turned to go,
fabric swishing against your legs.
Uncertain memory insists you smiled,
if only momentarily to unclench
the grip upon your windpipe,
the blunt pain deep inside your femur,
the dark edge arcing at the horizon
in your dreams or waking gaze.
In that still stratum of existence,
that lilting stream of secret thought
where no son or daughter enters in,
there the soul walks with worry
day and night
lost in a whispered discourse.
We must have all bathed
in that gentle stream,
its silent water lapping at our feet.
When you looked up, distracted,
as if from reading
Donne or Herbert
your ruminations
cannot have been
unsensed.
That thing you gave me,
that dark gift,
I bear like a secret
beneath my winter coat.
I know you never meant it
to be mine.
But the glade was darkening
when you walked that field
and your gaze was fixed
worriedly
on a shimmering
in the distant woods.
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
i go back--three steps, four steps, five
i search for what i said wrong
i wonder how you never knew
it was in my eyes--my breath, my lips, my cheeks
i collected every second you gave me
like treasures from the past
that will mean only more in the future
be patient i said
soon you'll notice--care, wish, love
i was never patient--three steps, four steps, five
in our youth i wanted it now--attention, fondness, grace
and i found it others
but it was never enough
it took a decade of you to understand
why it wasn't enough
my life was always dark--cloudy, dreary, waiting
thunder sounded in my heart from the moment i met you
i pushed it aside to a place i never looked
but lightning always follows thunder--three steps, four steps, five
when it hit rain poured all over me
over our memories--our happiness, our comfort, our truth
once you're struck by lightning
everything changes
it was darker--three steps, four steps, five
and my lips trembled trying to contain the words
i've been struck i wanted to scream
but i couldn't
you weren't struck
a breath can only be held for so long--three steps, four steps, five
when it released you held me--delicately, carefully, worriedly
but it was too much all at once
and you dropped me
something shatters
not the lightning bolt in my heart
not the sky of darkness in my mind
but our memories--our happiness, our comfort, our truth
you walk away--three steps, four steps, five
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 5:37 PM UTC
t'was when tears stung my eyes like the harsh wind outside
that i knew she was just a passerby;
a leaf from the tree so worriedly looking in at me
blown and lifted away.
t'was within the pages of my favorite book
that i fought my worst war;
my memories of her were rekindling to an inferno
but fading with the words on the paper.
t'was her, always her,
that saved me.
t'was her name for me,
"moquino,"
that i want on my headstone
just as,
"sofia,"
was printed on hers.
t'was her, always her,
that took a part of me
when she left,
for t'was her and only her
that was me.
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 12:34 AM UTC
You winced when I kissed you
And said that it burned
That night
Alone
I remembered your eyes
Burning through me
Like I had hurt you
Worriedly
I touched my lips
To my wrist
But they'd gone cold
And calling you a liar
Would hurt more than your kind of truth
Because that same night
Without believing it
You told me you loved me
So I kissed you again
But it was selfish
And I never wanted to do harm
So I've been afraid to touch you
Since then
Even though
I'd love nothing more
Than to brand your neck
The shape of my mouth
And call you mine
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
Sweet the girl and tender her age,
She's too young for the fire's rage.
But, alas, the law still stands,
And punishment for her crime demands.
Little Oshichi, that greengrocer girl,
Her hands, restrain; and hair, unfurl.
She stands upright against the stake,
Weeping as she regrets her mistake.
She had fallen in love with a page,
While a fire had roared and raged.
As her house was burnt away,
Love, within her heart, gave way.
Entranced, enraptured, and captured with him,
Oshichi went forth on a fanciful whim.
Believing that it would bring them together,
She struck a flint and started a fire.
A clanging tocsin pierced the night,
"Me-gumi, hark! There's a fire to fight!"
A throng of ***** steeplejack boys
Rush to the scene with swaggering poise.
Oshichi now gazed in horror, aghast,
Watching as the fire spread fast–
Her dream of meeting her youthful lover
Set ablaze with burning desire.
Arrested, tried, and sentenced to suffer,
The judge, kind sir, tried his best to save her.
"Are you not 15?" he asked, worriedly.
"I'm 16, my lord," she answered meekly.
Bewildered and anxious, he asked yet again,
"Surely you're 15, young one, dear saint?"
She bowed her head and shed a tear.
"No... I'm 16," she answered with fear.
Cursing his fate, the judge had no choice.
He gave his sentence with a downcast voice:
"Yaoya Oshichi–what girl so tender–
Shall be burnt an arson offender."
Bound and burnt for want of love,
Oshichi lifts her gaze above.
Weeping as her smoke ascends,
She cries to heaven, its mercy lend.
At last, Oshichi succumbs to the fire,
Consumed by passion borne of desire.
Sweet the girl and bitter the flame,
As her lover cries out her name.
Aug 20, 2024
Aug 20, 2024 at 7:07 PM UTC
Mothers are happy
to live worriedly the lives --
of their family.
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 3:45 AM UTC
Waiting, impatience, nervousness.
Imagination too broad to bare with this moment.
The sound of sirens ringing in my ears,
announcing awful news.
Vehicle passing, rising filth,
indeterminable urgency.
Drops of sweat, one by one,
drift down my forehead, cheeks, neck, back.
Paranoia causes dark horrific stink of blood in my nostrils,
goose flesh spreading rapidly from head to toes.
Burning ache around my heart,
every throb seems like the last one.
*
Five minutes after agreed time, you came running to my side under the Central square's clock.
"Sorry I'm late" you said, hugged me and kissed my cheek.
At the last moment, I stopped tears from overflowing.
Worriedly, you asked: "Is everything okay?"
Sheepishly smiling, I replied: "Yes, of course. My brain's just playing tricks on me."
Like nothing ever happened...
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 9:37 AM UTC
The feeling of November
Cold harsh nights of secrets and confessions
Of stories untold but with each other's ears we talked until they bled and I remember that feeling of peace I hadn't felt since May 2016
and who knew you were the perfect recipe?
I look back at my past with a sense of regret but hearing you tell me of your chapters of the book that is still being written made me review my life in the eyes of another and I look at it as a novelty.
You held my hand as we dissected the who's and the why's of our lives and we laughed
in the darkness of your room on your air mattress and we was more than melting into each other in the night, even before I knew I loved you, we were
kinetic, energetic, magnetic
A heart that had to much pride to let go
A heart that had so much love to give
Bodies that were making their own temples of unity
You always held me firmly
You opened my eyes to you and I felt you everywhere and you were the only thing I felt and I seen you and you're still the only thing I see and you proclaimed your love to me
So sweetly
You love me
"Did you hear me?"
You asked, worriedly
Your voice was already engraved into my heart of course I did, but I couldn't get those words out of my throat and
my voice stopped working, suddenly
"You don't have to say it back, I just wanted to let you know"
I want you to know too, but..
You love me though!
You dropped me off that night with a full heart and an even fuller smile. I'm addicted.
Working, sleeping, face timing, talking, laughing, hiding, dating..
One night singing old blues and show tunes lying in your room, our legs tangled into two and looking at you
"Da-dum da-dum da-dum" my heart was beating so loud to the beats of the phrase "I love you" that kept getting caught inside a fight with my pride right behind my teeth and at the tip of my tongue
Our love won the fight
"You do?"
You asked, happily
"I love you too"
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 3:35 PM UTC