Does she know you like I do?
Does she even know you?
Did you tell her yet about your past? About when your dog died you thought he’d be in heaven when you get there too?
Does she know not to talk about your dad?
That when you’re angry you break your phone. Or when you’re upset you only look down with quivering lips.
Does she know how to calm you down? How never to touch your hair or compliment your scars. ‘They’re not there to be admired’ you’d say.
Does she know where your eyes begin?
He doesn’t like to be touched sometimes, let alone be kissed.
Do you know who you are?
Did you tell her about when your mom passed? That you still get nightmares about her death?
Did you know I never lacked?
Do you realize when you’re mad?
That your eyes crinkle no matter the emotion you portray? That you hate the weather forecast?
You don’t like to be touched sometimes let alone be kissed.
Does her love satisfy all your worlds like I did yours at some point?