Posted in Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Something About Him

He found himself,


packing his soul into so many boxes,

that he left by my door,

every time he came to call,

hoping that one day,

Id invite him,

and his baggage in.

He found himself,

wishing I’d write his name,

a million ways,

for the rest of my days,


when I told him,

I was the kind of girl,

that wasn’t going to be around for long.

My house was rented,

my home was wherever I ended up,

my heart knows it wants to belong to someone,

but can never decide who is worthy.

I never planned to be alive,

beyond twenty five,

but something about him,

soothes my lust for living in heaven.

Something about him,

makes me want to stay.

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