06 January 2014

Hemingway Is My Boo

Floated far above,
  thought I knew about love.
Grown about time,
  Figure how this isn't mine.

All Yours.

Stretched throughout.
  How do I turn that off?
These emotions spout
  Yet here I sit, aloft.


I feel my smile grow.
  You have no clue.
Like you wouldn't know,
  I Love you.


Here it is again.
Nothing that I said
  will make me pretty.


it feels so nice,
  wrapped in your embrace
that for a moment
  I forgot who to hate.