how to comfort myself at three am,
when i don't know how alive i am,
and i forget how everything works.
i think of her.
i think of her infectious smile,
and how when i see her face
it makes me genuinely happy.
how her compliments make me feel,
like glowing butterflies are
threatening to escape from my stomach,
and fly up into the air in celebration.
she thinks i'm pretty.
she thinks i'm talented.
she thinks i'm smart.
butterflies fill the sky now,
i can't hide it.
she helps me remember
that it's ok to help myself.
she is putting my broken pieces
back together.
it's working.
thank you, love.
please, think of me.
YOU ARE READING
love is like a roller coaster
Poesia𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙. the hopeless ramblings of a hopeless romantic. > (completed)
