poems for you. always for you. ✓

t h i n g s - i - k n o w - a b o u t - y o u

here's a lil response poem to your own things i know about you

i just had to outdo you;) sorry not sorry 

for sahana

(i had no idea where i was going with this, and it is half serious, half forgotten inside jokes, so feel free to laugh whenever)

------

i know the meaning

of your name

but more importantly

how the three

soft, short syllables feel

when they leave

my lips

to linger in the air

in a cloud

of wisteria

and annotated

poetry books

with wildflowers

pressed between

the coming apart

coffee-stained pages

that will one day

blow away

out the car window,

scattering across the highway

when we're finally

on that road trip,

but they will forever stay

tucked in with my

memories

and the happily ever afters

we write

into existence

i know you can write

poetry

in a way that it reads

like a painting

of heartache and stories,

badass girls and fairies,

and my mind is

a museum

holding your works

of art

i know you can dance

your fingertips on

the monochrome keys

and have fantaisie-impromptu

sound like something new

even though i've never

heard you play,

but i want to,

and with every note

you send into the night,

you turn classical music

into an alive loveliness

that can raise my heartbeat

faster than

the upbeat christian rock

my mother has

blaring through the radio

at seven a.m.

i know we share

the same sense of humor

except your jokes

almost make me

spit out my water

and i think they're

more hilarious

than mine

but you probably know that

by all my "la moooo"s

and all the french cows

i send your way

i know you are

struggling

sometimes

and i'm sorry

that frog memes

can't make things

better

but i'm always

here to talk

if you want to,

if you'll let me

help you

i know you're tired

of my cheesiness

and my cheesy mind

but at least

i can spell it right

and not like that guy

who i hope now

doesn't write it like

chessi cheesey or cheesie

i know you are

a better person

than you think,

i know your words

feel like a bundle

of bluebell bouquets

on a summer day

when i read them,

i know everything

and nothing

about you,

but that's

okay

because you know

everything and nothing

about me,

and that's more

than what i usually

let people

hold on to

love,

mari