she had many faces.
her 9am one was my favorite.
the naïve one with messy hair
and sleepy smile.
by 1pm you could see a change.
there was a certain darkness
that made her intriguing.
sometimes by 9pm she'd decide
she didn't love me anymore.
all i could do was wish for the day to start over.
YOU ARE READING
thoughts.
Poetryhi guys, so this is just something new i decided to try ~~ i'm always writing away, so sometimes i'm gonna post little bits of it here. i hope it's not awful, and that maybe you can somehow relate to it and even enjoy it. just wanted to get this out...
