You're the time taken up,
I will never have enough.
You're the words, flooding down,
I see the ink, pouring out.
You're the dreams I see at night,
I can't explain this sense of "right."
You're the butterflies stirring in my belly,
I just can't shake this feeling of silly.
You're the chills I feel when we're out in the cool,
You be my heater as my feelings pool.
You're the thing that makes my day,
But I'm afraid of heartbreak, to scared to say what I want to say.
YOU ARE READING
Poured Out on Paper
PoetryCAUTION: This is a collection of my deepest thoughts and feelings. Half of it will NOT make sense to you. Handle with care, because this is my entire heart.... *Poured Out on Paper.*
