Brighten your eyes as you look up at me.
Parking lot confessions.
Your voice is so much softer than you make it in
I yearn for that softness.
Pillow my ears,
warm my hands on your back.
Trace fingertips down again-
the dip of your shoulders and spine.
Nobody else can capture my attention like that.
I’m so tired of these endless diatribes against myself
What is the point in staying around when its not really going anywhere?
“Life is so rich”
You probably don’t read these anymore