✖
I held on to your hand until you fell asleep.
You curl closer into my side when you're unconscious.
I am not sure if it's to comfort your nightmares or if it's because you crave my touch.
I like twirling your hair in between my fingers.
It's so smooth from the shampoo of that morning.
The gel has run out and it's smooth again.
You are terribly self conscious of your hair.
Complaining how it's always too puffy.
But it feels so nice in my hands.
And it frames your face just right.
When I look at you I count all of your insecurities.
And I ponder why they are insecurities in the first place.
Because when I count your insecurities I am simply counting some of the reasons on why I'm so madly in love with you.
Your scared hands.
Your puffy hair.
Your crooked nose.
Your shy smile.
Your beautiful laugh.
Your stubborn nature.
Your blush.
Your nervous mumbling.
Your constant up beat outlook.
Your habit of collecting small flowers.
Your random fits of laughter.
Your lack of coordination.
Your strange, random bits of information.
Your openness.
Your ability to love my insecurities as if they are also my best features.
✖
~~~
Not me making up a significant other to write about XD
YOU ARE READING
Finding Myself I ▽
Poetry"She painted her soul with words and displayed the pain for all to observe." Where a girl is learning how to love herself and the complicated life she lives.
