he had dark brown hair. it was almost black but in the sunlight, you could tell it was brown.
those hazelnut eyes use to confess how much I meant to him.
almost 6 six-foot-tall with NBA genes but I was holding him down.
you could tell his soul came from a good home the way he was holding my fragile heart.
he introduced me to a place where the sky meets the sea.
he traced over my lips and told me how beautiful I was just like the scene.
he would always embrace me, no matter the circumstances. his lips would press against mine and I would be reminded of his love.
he had the IQ of a lover. he remembered the meal I ate on the 4th but I forgot his birthday and his mother's name.
with each I love you, i got more distant. maybe it was where he came from or his middle name I didn't like. hated how I had nothing to offer, I felt a fool.
I close my eyes as his fingertips trails down my face, tracing my obvious features.
but this time, it isn't him.
in the air, there wanders temptation.
the atmosphere was introduced by a passed lover lingering around my lips.
I had blood on my hands the night of his birthday. he's now on the floor holding his chest.
crying from his bleeding heart, he watched me walk away and guilt washes over me.
I rush to the hospital in hopes that he's okay but he's nowhere to be found.
he's not at the beach, lagoon or terralong street.
I find myself standing over a gravestone. over our dead relationship.
dead bond. dead communication. dead everything.
his aura lingers around still, he must've just left.
today would've been our 1 year anniversary since we met for the first time if I still had him.
