Sometimes when we sit in my room reading a book, and you are splayed out on the spare mattress, with your hair all over the place and your smell on the sheets and your skin on show, I watch your chest rise and fall. Knowing that I would do anything to breathe in the air that is flowing through your lungs. I would do anything to put my mouth everywhere on your body. I want to taste you, I want to know you with my mouth.
You know me. You don't just see me. You see me. Everyone else doesn't see me. They don't see the storm I have within me, but you do. It's our secret private little hell. I live with it, I sleep with it. Sometimes I wish everyone knows. I sometimes wish that you didn't know. Would it have saved this storm from brewing. If you wish to dodge my storm, that's okay. Just let me know and I'll buy you an umbrella. Not one of the shitty ones you buy from the newsagency cart on the corner of the street on your way to school, one of the real ones you buy at the store at the mall. Sometimes I fear you will run away when the wind picks up. Maybe you already have. It's hard to tell.
YOU ARE READING
You Feel Like Sunlight
PoetryI am writing this for me, but it does not belong to me, it belongs to you. A series of poems and thoughts and rambling.
