i never had the chance to tell you how i felt ;
actually, no. i did have the chance to. a ton of chances. but the words always lingered on the tip of my tongue and i somehow managed to swallow them every time.
now i wonder what would've happened if i did tell you.
maybe nothing much would've changed, aside from the fact that i'd no longer be able to look you in the eye (to be fair, i could never look you exactly in the eye).
but i guess it's for the best this way. every girl had her eyes on you, and sometimes i wished you would just come to school with your head wrapped up so no one would be able to look at your face. you were too eye-catching, and i hated that.
you were nice to everyone, i hated that too. not your demeanor, just the fact that people were able to experience your warmth, and not just me.
i remember telling you i had ambitions to write, and i remember the soft smile you had when you told me you'd look forward to it. you seemed excited, to my surprise and our friends around us didn't seem to matter anymore, and all i could see was you. i don't know if you meant it, but your statement became one of the things that kept me writing. i scribbled and scribbled until i thought it would be good enough. good enough for you to read, that is.
in a parallel universe, maybe i'd be braver and tell you how i felt. but for now, please continue serving as my inspiration to write, because a thousand feelings and a thousand words come flooding into my head when i think of you.
YOU ARE READING
crimson
Poetry'here a seventeen year old with such a hurricane of emotions talks and rambles about her musings, and writes about lovers she hasn't met and heartbreaks she hasn't yet experienced,as well as others in its rawest state with the hopes that they may b...
