This is the story of
the boys who loved you
Who love you now
and loved you then
Some were sweet,
some were cold and snuffed you
Some just laid around in bed.
Some had crumbled you
straight to your knees
Did it cruel, did it tenderly
Some had crawled their way
into your heart
To rend its ventricles apart
This is the story of
the boys who loved you
This is the story of
your red right ankle.
So here is to yellow doors and long talks.
Cherry blossoms and half sisters.
Letters with people who fell in love with my words.
And work, and responsibility, and sleeping well,
and tea, and sock monkey love, and polaroid photos
and being quick to kiss, and the sun,
and orange peals, and tea cups that litter my room,
and riding my bike on damp streets,
and hanging out in my underwear,
and singing bad covers on my guitar,
and not remembering sometimes, and twinkle lights,
and compromise, and pea cocks,
and being irrational and naive and just saying what I feel,
and hell...here is to me.
Just me, just livi.
talk! talk! talk!
livimayhem