I still write notes to you sometimes in all my favourite places.
I guess i’m just hoping that one day you’ll come looking for me again,
and you’ll know where to find me.
Don’t you remember
when we held the stars together
and slow-danced in the middle of moonlit streets? Now
I’m having a hard time finding the difference between the pieces of you
and the pieces of my heart.
Our names were written on foggy mirrors,
in smudged paint,
but you told me that it’s possible
to find in the beauty in anything.
And I’m trying.
I’m trying.
I’m trying.
Actually, I find your eyes beautiful
and maybe that's the problem.
I could swear they're the same shade
as the sky was the first time you kissed me.
Isn't it funny that we reserve spots in our hearts for the dead?
There is so much life we could love,
but we always go back to the ones
who have done everything to prove that
they don't deserve it.
Anyways,
I’ve covered my room in flowers since
you left.
Although, I don’t think they're beautiful enough for you.
About the Creator
AD RI
i write in sun beams and glass shards.
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