under the blankets, coffee in hand; i start to think of you and how perplexing of a creature you are. you are a riddle, a jigsaw puzzle, algebra and astronomy. and somehow, i manage to love every piece of you, every question, every complex thing about you, although i've never been good with algebra or riddles or puzzles.
this is how my day goes by. i always catch myself drifting to the thoughts of you, and now my coffee's cold, yet you are burning in my head.
YOU ARE READING
crimson
Poesía'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...
