The euphoria I feel,
Comes only from his hands,
Not touching me wrongly,
But caressing my cheek.
He is an alien
Of all humanity.
He is the beauty behind insanity.
He holds me within his arms
And smiles not stares,
And I know that he cares.
He talks to me
with personality
And knows that I will never be a property.
And he helps me turn red with laughter,
When I am blue from disaster.
He makes me listen,
When he's in a serious tone.
But then I wake up,
Only to notice
it's cold to be alone.
YOU ARE READING
The Journey
PoetryA small book of poems I wrote. All photos were taken by me, besides the one for Princess Anna. That was taken by my aunt I believe, and I just edited it a little. Princess Anna is dedicated to my great grandmother who passed away at 4am on January...
