be still,
my stupid,
sour,
heart.
i want him to be
the one,
i do.
i do.
i want to say these
two words to him,
some day.
i do.
i do.
you beat steady,
then i think of him.
your steady sound
goes off course.
i want you to
slow down,
i do.
i do.
you beat steady,
then he comes around.
holy fuck,
i feel you
prying at my chest.
it's so good, it
almost hurts.
i almost want you
to stop,
i do.
i do.
but listen,
you soft-spoken,
naive little thing.
it's not just for how
he looks.
how he dresses,
nor the way he walks,
nor talks.
he's the best friend
i've missed having.
even if he's not here,
he creeps his way into
my mind.
i don't mind.
he's got the perfect smile.
not because it's pretty,
even though it is,
but it's infectious.
his articulate,
pink, plump,
pillows are passionate
for the words he speaks.
i thought i knew what it was like
to be in love with someone.
but it was until i met him,
that i realized how wrong
i was.
i did.
i did.