Something I wrote while in the back of a motorbike in Bangkok (she’s a cringe poet or whatever)

I want a glass of water on my bedside because I cough at night

And in the morning, someone who knows what makes my coffee “just right”

I want someone who’d enjoy going with me on my aimless walks

And in the dark, we’d have nonsensical late night talks

I need someone to understand all the grief I hold inside of me

And yearn to meet someone I’d want to take home to meet my family

Someone who never does anything I can’t tell my friends freely

Someone who adores me and won’t trample on my dignity

The older I get, the simpler my needs

But it seems that what I ask for are astronomical deeds

I would rather give up and never find romance

Than let my heart find itself again

In the palms of the wrong hands

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