I thought I loved the way his arms touched my own.
with the way,
his soft lips,
I oh so craved,
touched my own.
but I had to face,
the way it all drains me in a way,
but never the good draining.
never the draining where,
his body tires me out from our bodies colliding for hours.
it's draining in the way,
those touches really tricked me into thinking he did love me.
because,
how could one that doesn't feel love for me,
touch me like he did?
how could his lips touch me like that?
how could his arms touch me like that,
if he didn't love me?
YOU ARE READING
my lover poets
Romansathe thoughts about love. Simplicity form yet addictive to consume your mind over. Love isn't always perfect. (I know I'm not a perfect writer in poetry, but I thought it would be fun to write out some thoughts I have, and things I've learned int...
