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She smiled with her cigarette stained lips, a devilish smile, kind nevertheless. Her eyes a mix of green and brown, warm yet guarded, sparkled in the sunlight. Hair the colour of biscuits, the ones you get given at your grandmas, kept in a tin box. Her skin pale yet bright, with lips coloured by the same strawberry lip balm I would kiss off at the end of the day.
I don't think I'll ever forget you, I hope I don't.
My first love.
My messy love.
I know you still love me, I see it in the apprehensive gaze you give me as you ask me if I'm dating that girl you saw me with yesterday. In the eye roll you think I don't see as I talk about someone for too long. I see it in the way your eyes flash in worry and you try and get my attention when we're with our friends.
And I still love you, in a way I think I always will, even if it's not in the way I do now. You brought me such comfort, even when you hurt me. I know I can rely on you to silently wipe my tears as they fall down my face. Your eyes tell me all I need to know to feel okay.
Is it okay to want to keep hold of something for too long?
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YOU ARE READING
~ HUMAN INTROSPECTION ~
Poetry~*~*~*~ ~*~*~*~ A collection of poetry and philosophical questions made to question the relations and views we have of ourselves and others. I encourage readers to explore themselves and allow their thoughts to run unfiltered while reading. I hope...
