I wrote this shit in 9th grade so don’t fucking judge me.

I wish I could write poetry

Beautiful enough for you


 

But beauty

Isn’t something I could make


 

It’s what gleams through your eyes when you smile


 

It’s the breath you take between words


 

It’s the way your hands tremble when you’re trying to be confident


 

It’s the curve of your neck when you tilt your head


 

It’s the fleck of brown in your eye


 

It’s enveloped in the folds of your oversized red hoodie


 

It’s your curiosity


 

It’s the curl of your eyelashes and the soft edges of your ears


 

It’s your light Irish skin


 

It’s the sound of your voice, always


 

It’s what resonates in your laughter


 

It’s the softness in your palm when I hold your hand


 

It’s the angle of your shoulders


 

And after all of this

After all the artificial beauty shown to me


 

All my love is measured by connecting the dots

Between each perfect flaw on your face.

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