How She Makes Me Feel

How She Makes Me Feel …

Like consuming whole stacks of Oreos

Each leaning tower slathered from whole milk

Or maybe skim, it depends on my mood

That pleasing mood of completeness and it shows

Where I’m the leaning tower, and she desires my ilk,

And together we are cohesive, we are glued.

Desirable. That’s how she makes me feel.

Like the sun on early morning approach,

Divinity with each gilded ray of hope

Subtle yet powerful; but inside it burns.

Perpetually scorched or otherwise reproached

Because to love any less it couldn’t cope—

with. And in her passion no stone was left unturned.

Passionate. That’s how she makes me feel.

Like a freshly read novel when complete,

That response right after you snap the book shut

And breathe in a sigh of needed relief

As the body succumbs to the sense of replete

And the butterflies who continue to glut—

in my stomach, can placidly fall asleep.

Complete. That’s how she makes me feel.

There’s warmth in her trust, in being vulnerable

and in knowing she would never break my heart

Just like she will never be that damn cliché,

The girl who knows that she is memorable

but leaves chronic scars that tear you apart

She was not that girl yesterday or today…

Safe, That’s how she makes me feel.

There are still parts of me that are broken

And instead of prying open the cracks

She runs a blacktop company and seals me

Reviving the dying heart I was holding

Filling in those cracks which I’ve sorely lacked

Someone I can trust whose got my back, and feels me.

Loved. That’s how she makes me feel. Every day… And I Love her.

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Paul Neglia

Proud father of 3. Part time writer of poetry and short stories. I want to paint the world in but a few words.

Latest posts by Paul Neglia (see all)

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