But somewhere out there, he slowly becomes bored. I see him inching towards my direction again.
I try to look straight ahead, because I know the cost of looking back.
I try to. I really do.
But old habits die hard.
YOU ARE READING
HIM
Poetry[Highest: #994 in poetry lol] He's exotic and eccentric. The way he speaks, the way he moves: so gracefully but also so carelessly. As is the way his spirit is childish and interesting but aged and mundane. He's a mystery I'm starting to get hooked...
