I want love. But I don't actually want love.
I want someone to hold me when I cry like my mothers warm touch.
I want someone to listen when I talk, not listen, but listen.
I want someone to understand my jokes and laugh at them in a way that boosts my ego just a little.
I want someone to watch movies with me and listen to the comments I make about the characters.
I want someone to hold my hand when tears threaten to fall out my eyes.
I want someone to praise me for my accomplishments and comfort me when I fail.
I want someone to like the movies I watch and laugh with me about them.
I want someone to like space just as much as I do.
I want someone to understand my love for writing like the love is theirs as well.
I want someone to understand my need to talk about anything and nothing at once.
So no, I don't actually want love, I want the concept of it to suffocate me.
YOU ARE READING
Moral Ambiguity
PoetryPerpectives of life from my eyes and my stories. Delves into the themes of what it means to be human, intense emotions, and life in itself. Most importantly, written about the world from a thirteen year old girls eyes. Includes: Short stories, Poems...