I wish you would just punch me

It would wake me from this spell

The one that makes me think 

That maybe there’s a chance 

That you and me can be something

My family made of scraps

Garbage and hot glue

Lost and tired trash

Came together to make new

To others we are strange

A jumbled sort of mess

I met you in the Spring

Under aging oak

The world seemed to stop

Whenever you spoke

I met you in the Spring

Over shaded flowers