I want to be loved
like a country song.
I want to be loved like
sleeping would be hard without me to hold.
I want to be loved like
a sweet guitar solo and a soft drumming background.
I want to be loved like
a floor creaking, 2AM, tip - toe dance around the kitchen.
I want to be loved like
a hazy neon sign that buzzes through the night.
I want to be loved like
a stiff whiskey.
I want to be loved like
Sunday lunch at mamas' house.
I want to be loved like
painting the kitchen together in droplet harmony.
I want to be loved like
a picket fence and long farm lands.
I want to be loved like
summer rain and dirty boots.
I want to be loved like
a wild, free breeze with the windows down.
I want to be loved like
midnight stars on the last night of summer.
I want to be loved like
an open road going nowhere.
I want to be loved like
a room full of people with just me in it.
I want to be loved like
midnight air and 'questionable' adventures.
I want passion and beauty and
reckless freedom.
I want to be loved like
a country song.
{ 2021 }
YOU ARE READING
Alive
PoetryIt is an ugly beast to have to have to tame. Sometimes the easier thing to do instead of learning to tame the beast, is to learn to understand it and move with it. It's a roller-coaster of pain and anger and confusion, but once in a while, it's Aliv...