I wish I could write more about you, but the way you actually are, paint you in soft pastels and wrap you in pleasant words. People around me think you are a monster, with a blunt knife, slowly carving your existence onto my soul.
1. You often tell me what to do, and I think it's because you care. You told her the same thing two days later. And someone else too.
//Maybe you just have too much love to give. Maybe I shouldn't think too much//
2. You listen to me. You know my stories. The other day when I asked you what my name was, you told me it doesn't matter because I'm "yours". You told me her eyes were aqua blue, and when they shine, it looks like the sun and the ocean had a love-child.
//You still know my stories. Maybe I shouldn't think too much//
3. They say love begins with a metaphor so I wrap parts of me in words you understand and leave them in our conversations. Now I just have to wait for you to open my chats. It's- umm- been three days, and I think the blue tick looks a bit scary.
//You must be busy. Maybe I shouldn't think too much//
4. You make me feel alive, but you also constantly push me off the edge. I know you find me beautiful, but I'm not a doll. Maybe we could get some toys, for you to stop playing with my heart?
//Summers are for falling in love. You keep going to her house a lot these days. Maybe I shouldn't think too much//
-Ish, isn't this red ink too dark for a love poem?
YOU ARE READING
Reverie
Poetry~ if not between the lines, where else can I find my peace? ~ Trigger warnings applied || Poetry Collection ||
