Malik
I don't feel when I'm with him. I don't feel infatuation. I don't feel love. I don't feel nothingness. And I don't feel pain or regret. Just the ground, the ground beneath my feet and the weight in my chest, the thing called a heart. I feel the caterpillars turning into butterflies in my stomach and I feel the doubts fly away. I call him my anchor; he is my rock. He shows me there is a ground zero and not just cloud nine. A place where I can die happily in his arms and it smells like a boy who's unsure; yet so very positive about me. I can feel it. My daisy's petals seem like they cry because they remember when he used to pick her. But now he can smooth talk me and he's chosen a damn good larkspur. I've fallen and for once it's not on the floor and I can feel it. I know what it's like now to run -- to sprint -- free and completely open-heartedly. Never liked like this before and I'm sorry but just promise me one thing: baby, don't ever fall hard for me cause you've broken these walls but I swear the ground has never been further. So pretty please with a kiss from me -- can you promise never to feel grounded with me?
YOU ARE READING
How I Love You
Poetry". . . . Then must you speak / Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well; / Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, / Perplex'd in the extreme. . . ." -Act 5, Scene 2 of Othello by W. Shakespeare A collection of poems to the boys and men I hav...
