“At least we met.”
That's what I muttered under the same sky we used to look up on together. At least I met you. That's the only thing that I'm being proud of right now. The part that I met you is the biggest chapter of my story so far.
I've met lots of people yet you're the only one whom I can't forget completely. Who are you, really? I still can't figure out who you are. I can't still find words on how to describe you properly. It's funny how I can't tell everyone that you are someone that made me special.
However, you still make me smile even though I'm only telling our story now— alone. Do you still remember me when you look at the stars? I can still recall how you said you like stargazing. Your eyes are glimmering when you told me that, it made my heart sparkle.
The same sky we used to look upon to is also the only witness of our love story.
Oh your sweater— your sweater is the only thing left here in my bedroom— proving that you are real.
Is this how we really ended? well, at least we met.
YOU ARE READING
Soft Proses & Bloody Journals
PoetrySoft Proses and Bloody Journals is a collection of my proses, short poetries and excerpts from my stories (that i probably will not continue anymore and publish). I'd like to associate the following pieces of mine as a part of my healing while tryin...
