You are my sleepless nights
and warm Decembers.
You are the stuffed lion gathering dust on my top shelf.
The book never read,
the poem never written,
the vanilla scented candle
and the pencil I lost but always found again.
You are "hey there" and "so long,"
the extra spoon of sugar in my morning coffee,
the moth in my bedroom that I left alone.
You are the yes after the maybe,
the awkward hug,
the pajama bottoms two sizes too big,
the "I don't know how to put it"s,
a full day of movie watching,
and the one time I ran away after crying at school.
You are a rough cheek,
the scent of fresh laundry,
You were the only person who went after me.
You are the poem memorized line for line,
the library book returned on time,
the song on loop, running through my mind.
You are lazy afternoons spent counting clouds;
the unsaid word dancing at the tip of my tongue.
You are my sleepless nights,
and warm Decembers,
and all the mornings I woke up smiling.