Little Things

My first attempt at poetry since middle school.

Entered in the poetry writing competition.


1. Little Things

Often when I’m alone I think of little things that make me happy.
Most of the time the thoughts revolve around a certain someone.
The smile happens instantaneously when I think of him.
But he’s not the subject here.

When I think of little things I picture his hand caressing the side of my face.
His thumb gliding along my jaw.
The electricity I might feel if his fingertips trace my lips.
The way his smile brightens after seeing mine.

I get chills thinking of the cool sheets we lie on.
The clean and fresh smell attached to them.
The way they crinkle under our combined weight.
I wonder if he enjoys these little things.


Never in my life have I had these thoughts.
But when I picture him or these things, 
I can’t fight the glee I feel inside.
This feeling I crave often.

Like his hand holding mine.
Our fingers interlaced in a perfect mold.
How his thumb presses into the back of my hand.
Or how I draw small circles on his with my finger.

I love the feeling of the scruff on his jaw.
How it prickles against my smooth skin.
The way it contrasts nicely against his skin tone.
He’s so beautiful. 
I wonder if he knows.


I want his smell all around me.
His touch to be close by.
Maybe I’m addicted.
But there are worse things I could be addicted to.

Maybe he is the subject.
It doesn’t change the fact that I’m happy.
I hope he knows he’s the reason.
That he helped me see these little things,
I’m in love with.

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