i think you’re special Poem, by Cody James, at My poetic side

I know your silhouette better than your soul:

your mother’s maiden name, and your childhood home,

you drink your coffee black, and your toast a little burnt,

in school you traded answers for the tests you hadn’t learnt.

Your hands shake when you’re nervous — in that, I am the same,

that scar behind your ear from the accident you never named,

I know your first kiss, your go-to karaoke song,

the way your first tattoo smudged and how you had to play along.

The angle your smile tilts, it prompts your aura’s glow,

I think you’re very special, maybe more than you should ever know.

This list could stretch for hours, yet still I would not rest,

if it didn’t end with the question burning deep inside my chest:

I know your favourite things, your quirks, your fatal flaws,

but do you think I’m special, or even know me at all?

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