"I still let myself cry for you, maybe somehow you'll feel the heaviness on my chest and come back to help me lift it.
I still let myself listen to your favorite song, hoping you might come back and dance with me to it.
I still let myself look at your old photos, wondering if you have any of me, and if you smile like heavens gates are in front of you when you look at me.
I still let myself think of you, maybe you might spare a thought of me every once in a while.
I still let myself drink to your soul, maybe you'd share a bottle with me.
I still let myself do all of these things, cause they make me feel like I'm home. I'm where I belong, loved between your arms."
YOU ARE READING
A MESS.
Poetrya book of scattered thoughts, words and actions. forever under construction so don't expect anything really. I'm not the best, but I love what I do & I do what I love.