It's the little things.
I've always known
I was never a reader.
I used to think
in my younger years
that the thought of touching
paper littered with
rambling words
was the equivalent
to torture or prison.
but on days,
especially the rainy ones,
where I have you by my side,
I think you'd
have to keep behind
the steel bars to stop
me from having
tea and enjoying books with you.
and it's absolutely
not the books
that keep me there
on our little green couch
to small for the
both of us to fit,
it's the time with you.
to have you
shoulder to shoulder
or you sprawled out
on my lap or mine on yours,
to be reading the same
exact words,
to see your eyes skim
to and fro,
the only thing I'm
paying attention to is you.
my favourite book,
one I could read forever.
YOU ARE READING
existential crisis: wellness and health
Poetryfor the ones who are hurt, heartbroken, overthinking, overwhelmed, and feel like they're slowly suffocating: OR for the ones who are deeply madly in love, are terribly obsessed, and or in a state of unrequitedness: "I hope you find the comfort you a...
