There comes a point where your brain just accepts the fact that you'll never be with him and for a moment all the fantasizing goes away. You just get real with yourself. You aren't sad, cause you knew it all along, but it's when you contemplate the direction your life will go, you can't imagine it without him, no matter how many moments like these you have; these awakening seconds where you don't lie to yourself and you hurt a bit and move on to being hopeful again and wishing you could be with him, so as not to dwell on the fact that it's never going to happen.
k.g
YOU ARE READING
colorless
PoetryIn this instant, I see it all so clearly; while colors are such a vivid asset in his book of pictures, I have realized that the reason I do not fit in this title is because I am simply devoid of color. I am c o l o r l e s s. I am nothing but slathe...
