To the person who painted colors in my heart I could never replace,
Remember when we often hang out on the roof of your house in the middle of the night and all we talk about were how boring life was? That you can die any moment and you'd feel thankful for it. We were the same, both of our lives were dull and we both find living exhausting, we were some lonely souls that happened to find comfort in each otherʼs warmth, it was always us against the world. We used to trace and align the stars up in the sky using our fingers, pretending we can touch them, and there was a night when you suddenly covered my index finger with your palm and looked at me like I belong to the sky, my heart fluttered and it made my world stop spinning, like the time has come into its end, and the moment was solely for us, and suddenly—
I saw the world in your eyes.
Reminiscing,
Seah.
YOU ARE READING
letters never sent
Poetryvintage papers inside a bottle that has been washed away by the waves of memories, letters never sent.
