It's the little things that make me happy. Like; forehead kisses, and helping me in and out of trucks and showers. It's kissing my hand when you hold it. It's kissing me at stop lights, and letting me put up a christmas tree. It's telling me you got me a christmas present before you knew I had gotten you one.
If you only knew what I would do for you. These little things would mean so much more. I would lie for you, "No officer, he has never talked about killing anyone.". I would give you anything you asked. My heart, my soul, my life.
It's the little things that I see in your eyes. The way you look at me. The way you reassure me, when I'm being unreasonable. The way you don't yell at me, when I've been taught that if I do this, I'll be yelled at.
It's the little things that make me happy. But don't forget, it's the little things that make me insecure.
It's the little things that are a big deal to me. The kisses for me and the instagram likes for them. I know I'm insecure, and I'm sorry. I'm trying to be better. I'm trying to be more like them I guess. Knowing my relationship is strong and unbreakable. But I don't know that. You can change at any minute.
It's the little things that he did that fucked me up, and now you are dealing with the backlash. I'm so sorry. It's the little things that matter.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryRandom poetry I write. It will mostly be depressing, might have a few happy notes in it.
