He fell asleep in awful positions, while reading books at three in the morning. He had an obsession with underrated songs. He used the same strawberry shower gel everyday but I never grew tired of his scent. Whenever his light pink lips turned into a small smile, he made my heart melt. His hair always remained perfect- like it was on the day we met; surrounded by trees and people. Out of all those people that filled the space around us; he chose me. And at the time I thought this was the best day of my life, but I soon learnt that it wasn't. And that's how the best day of my life turned into the worst, all because of him.
And although that day was now the worst day, I don't regret anything. Because he made my life so much better. And now I'm counting down the days until I have a new best day of my life- the day he comes back.
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Poetry ☹ Lukeyslaugh
Poetrypoetry ˈpəʊɪtri/ noun literary work in which the expression of feelings and ideas is given intensity by the use of distinctive style and rhythm; poems collectively or as a ge...
