I say I’m good with words,
but my words will never
be able to paint
the endless warmth
You bring
into my small heart.
love
what’s in a month
the first smile
a friendly hug
a shy reaching hand
a kiss.
what’s in a month?
a heavy breath
a tear
a walk at the park
a breakdown.
a warm heart
a poem,
pairs of eyes talking
pairs of tangled feet.
what’s in a month?
it’s you.
filling my heart
day by day,
with sun.
Depressive Optimist 