Little Things

By: Sophia Fox

You are the car crash I can’t help but look at

The spider in the corner of my shower that I can’t turn my back on

The random shower thought I ponder, the barely-there idea

Though I wonder if you are leaving me a

Dish on the back burner, a just in case character

The carnival carousel

Forgotten in the back of the park only

Remembered after lit up in the dark, after you’ve ridden all of the other rides already

But to me, you are the shapes I see in the trees

A stray balloon in the great blue sky

You are the heart nicely written on a note neatly placed in a lunchbox

You are the ruby red ring of lipstick on a cigarette that reminds me of a music video

You are us holding hands at the haunted house unaware I wanted to do that forever

You are the bowling ball in my tummy when I think of telling you

I know I’m not the golden specks of dust in the sun

Or the fingerprint you can’t seem to wipe off

You’re spot on the ceiling that you can’t help but stare at

You’re not my everything but my every little thing