It's weird how
I still don't know
what to say about him.
Every time that I think I have words
I run out
they don't seem suiting
they don't seem like enough.
I don't know what to think about him.
Thoughts don't fit him, he just simply
Every time I think
He hits me with a bag of bricks,
if this feeling can be equated to the weight of a bag of bricks,
which I think it can.
It certainly feels like a bag of bricks.
And that smile.
That smile hits me with ten thousand bags of bricks on its own.
And that laugh.
And for that matter,
the way he says small things like
I just can't help but feel stupid happy when he's around.
Copyright © Claire Ryan | Year Posted 2019
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