why is it that
i see
your face
on strangers
i pass on the streets
carelessly hoping
for it to be
your own
why is it that
when i hear
those indie blues
i always stop a while
to reminisce the moment
of heartbreak
drenched in gold
why is it
that every little thing
seems to be
a constant reminder
of the boy
i lost
like the universe
is hell bent
to make me remember
how stupid
i was
to let you go
YOU ARE READING
for him.
Poesíayou filled me with love and comfort but i was too blind to realize that i was already drowning and the boy that i'd trusted was the one holding me underwater. so then i learned to never trust your heart into the hands of another.
