Migrating to the South Shore

He has no clue.

He has no idea.

He doesn’t have the slightest

That he’s the only one I truly trust

Because I know he won’t tell

And more importantly:

Won’t pretend to understand,

And maybe won’t understand at all.

He just listens.

He just sits in the car with me.

He just escapes to Giggle Hill with me.

He just is, and that’s all I need.

In his existence is my peace.

His life is my comfort.

All I want is him to be around;

All I want is him to never leave.

I don’t ask him for much,

Just time and a little patience;

Our nights are magenta.

I hope this never ends.

My heart is broken,

My mind is a mess, too,

But somehow it all disappears

As long as we exist;

I am a million desperate butterflies,

And he is a the South Shore.