Poem Number Six

May 16, 2016

I'm sitting here

Staring at walls and

Scribbling at thoughts.

This is when I imagine you, and

Your unique, soft kiss that twists and turns

My thoughts and causes my doodles

To turn pink and red,

Little spots taking over my mind,

That conforms in your hands.

You're my mismatched socks,

My left eye,

My pen and paper which I write to you on,

The sweet nothings and kisses I leave on you.

These are the thoughts I scribble,

While I stare at the wall and

Sit in my desk.

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