Somewhere in my body, I have the capability to love another, but I don't think there is. Sometimes, I just don't care, but people keep telling me that love is real, and I tend to wonder if my statement of love being unreal is untrue. There are times where I wish it were real, like when I hear your sweet voice ring through my ears, and a feeling so great seeps into my bones. My skin grows hot and my cheeks burn a bright red, and every time I hear you laugh, I could swear love is real. I'd give a million reasons as to why it is, but in the end you have to leave me with an ache for your comfort. If love were real, then no one would leave.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Poetry
PoesíaJust a bunch of my writings, usually dark but there are a few bright ones hidden in there somewhere... I hope you enjoy!
