He's a memory.
He's the little voice on the back of my head telling me that guys are not all the same.
He's the summer days that never end, he's the perfect moment caught in a video frame.
He's the color, he's the sky
I want to say that I don't care anymore but about him I cannot lie.
He's every love song ever written, that's why they always get me in tears.
I try to listen to them and think of someone new but his shadow never disappears.
He's the streats I cross every day,
he's every outfit I've ever worn since that stupid play.
He's the first thought when I wake up, and the last tears I shed before I sleep.
He's that ridiculous blue t-shirt I can't help but to keep.
He's the tiny braid with colorful laces I had in my hair when with him I fell in love
and last week when I re-braided my strand of hair he was all I could think of.
So he's a memory, yes, but one that never leaves my mind.
'Cause my heart loves him still, but my brain knows it's better to leave it all behind.
YOU ARE READING
Trust my words.
PoetryA poetry collection of random poetries I wrote. Nothing special, just some deep stuff from a burning poet heart, I hope you enjoy. I think most of them are going to be love letters or over-dramatic sh*t I write when I'm down.
