I know you know what you mean to me,

But somehow it’s not enough.

I need to put it in coherent sentences, so others will understand.

I have no place to start,

So I’ll put my pen down and write,

And try not to filter my thoughts.

I love the way you are,

There’s nothing I would change.

Your hair, your eyes, your “rosy” skin

Your cattywampus toes

Your teeth, though you hate them

Your height that matches mine perfectly

Your stupid face

Your thinking face

Your confused face

I know them all.

They are you.

I love the things we do, because it absolutely doesn’t matter what.

We can sit and do nothing.

We can talk, share anything.

We can fight, though we never do.

We can dance, even though it’s painful to watch.

We can spend day together and never run out of things to say- or not talk at all, we’re content.

We can do everything as long as we’re together.

And I’m writing this poem,

So you know how much room you take up in my heart, just like you do the couch.

I can’t imagine how grey the world would be if you weren’t here.

And I never want to find out.

Could I live without you?

What happens when a seam tears?