as i lay in bed
staring at the ceiling
your face pops into
my head my mind is naive
to think that we actually
have a chance at being
more than friends
overthinking the
possibilities that wrap around
my brain so tell me why
when all the memories flood into
my head they strangle my
pumping heart and threaten
to fall from my eyes
-
why do you have this effect on me
YOU ARE READING
poems
Poetrywritten poems that my heart whispered to my broken hands as they typed at eerie hours of the night.
