And he says to the black-haired girl who likes to keep it short, but is never satisfied with how she looks; the girl whose head is never pastel clear but hazy grey, "You know since you love stars, you should love yourself, too, for you are one."
For the first time in her seventeen years of life, she never felt like she is one to be looked at, stared at, adored, and there he comes, telling her beautiful things about how beautiful she is and how beautiful his world has become ever since he met her.
For the first time in her youth, she looks at the stars and sees a boy she is in love with- to her, what was falling in love, anyway?-, she sees a name that could be anyone's and can't help but think of a particular person, she sees him in everywhere and in everything and wants to keep a star all to herself.
"Do you see stars in me just because I like stars?" She asks while enjoying the wind in her hair and the warmth of his skin on hers, without expecting a definite answer.
"No," he says, as a matter-of-factly. "You love stars, and you are one." At this, he lets go of his finger from the bracelet on her wrist they both bought as a couple, and firmly intertwines all his fingers ten fingers with hers. "I love you no matter what, okay?"
---
[28/12/17]
YOU ARE READING
Once Upon A Lone Heart | ✔
PoetryIt's you. It's always you. But it never should have been. --- [A collection of thoughts I thought were good when I first thought of them.] [12/07/18 rank - #480/528 in prose] [17/07/18 rank - #203/556 in prose]
