In the morning I lay next to her
My eyes barely open, my legs in need of a good stretch
I find myself still wrapped in her arms from the night before, a place I now call home
I look at her without saying a single word,
I place my head on her chest and listen to her heart
Her morning breath warming the back of my neck
I can't believe how lucky I am to have her, she's so gentle and well
I lift my head up and kiss her forehead
"Good morning" I whisper into her ear
Before I knew it I was pulled in for a hug
She kissed we sweetly and smiled
"Good morning baby, let's get a cup of coffee"
YOU ARE READING
gas station flowers
Puisicoming of age poetry by a queer young adult writer. navigating relationships and the coming out process. peak inside the mind of a young woman with a mental illness.
