i want to write you poems until my hand falls off
i often wonder if you read them would you come back?
would each sentence, word, letter that your eyes glaze over
light up - would you remember how it felt?

i told you so many times that nobody can ever love you as much as i do
and if you ever find someone who claims they do
bring them to me
lay them down before me
knowing that they will never get back up

there is a sunset in four hours
yours is the only hand i will ever hold
walking in it's direction
so call me, text me, bump into me
scream at me, grab me, slap me, burn me
just come back to me