Do You Ever Miss My Postcard Mouth?

I throw love around like it’s glitter confetti
heart on my sleeve, in my hands
yours for the taking whenever you want

even if, after a while, it’s unrequited
(he loves me, he loves me not)

you’ll still find pieces of me –

reminders of my postcard mouth,
despite trying not to miss you out loud
because I never know when to stop giving.