You were like a story,
My ink and paper boy.
Said and did the perfect things
That always brought me joy.
You weren't afraid to cry to me,
Yet still you dried my tears.
And when you spoke, the gorgeous sound
Rang deep within my ears.
But there's one thing that I forgot,
In all the time we'd spend.
Books aren't real, problems come,
And always, stories end.
YOU ARE READING
Give
PoesiaAfter a break up, one of the best things I've done was get into something I wasn't interested in when we were together. It becomes something not touched by memories of the other person enjoying it with you. For me, it was reading and writing poetry...
