a collection from the emotionally disabled

A poem book.


17. T>R>W

The stubble on his jaw

was the first thing that I saw


But it's not the thing I love the most.


The glasses that he likes to wear,

running fingers through his hair


Looking at him, I just get lost.


I watch him listening to music

I feel like I'm about to lose it


He lets out a laugh, and it the cutest

thing I've ever heard.


If only I could say this to him,

verbatim: word for word.




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