Poetry is my aesthetic.
Along with mint chocolate chip ice cream, raindrops on tin/car roofs, smiles that look better than mine, and the way my guitar sounds when the pic plucks each string individually.
Words are my aesthetic.
When I form them into sentences that make you smile even though you do not want to. When you tell me, you are not in the mood, but I use them to make you laugh anyway.
You are my aesthetic.
The way your eyes resemble two rings of Earth frozen in time. The way your smile lights up the room like a nightlight only I can see. Or the way your nails trace my fingers as our hands locks together like two perfectly fit puzzle pieces.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of a Young Mind
PoetryIt's exactly what it sounds like. My teachers and friends have pushed at me for years to expose my poetry to more than just them and myself so....that's what this is. I actually don't write a lot of poems about being Trans, but you might find one o...
