you put your arm around me.
Out of nowhere,
and you seem to do it more often then before.
And I say my hands are cold,
not expecting anything,
but then you laugh in the special way you do,
(the way I love)
and you grasp my hands, and
warm them.
I don’t know if this means something,
or just random acts of friendship.
All I hope is that you’re just not messing with me,
though if this is how it is,
I like being messed with.
YOU ARE READING
Shut Your Eyes (February 2011 - August 2011)
PoetryI'm like an actor who forgets his lines because of stage-fright. I can't trust myself. So let my writings speak for my heart and for my head, let them say the words I can't say aloud. This is all I've got, since being quiet and contemplative hasn't...