a collection from the emotionally disabled

A poem book.

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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.

 

 

l.r.

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