“To the boy with the girl who is not me. I know I should not miss you, but every night the sun seems to take longer to arrive and all I can think about is the way your eyes would change with the weather. I know you don’t miss me, but I can’t help but convince myself you might when I remember how your eyes used to light up when you smiled at me. I know that you don’t view me as anything other than a friend, but I can still feel the impressions your fingers left on mine when they were woven together. I know I shouldn’t wonder what you’ve been doing these past months, but I can’t help envisioning you doing all the things you promised we would do, but with her. I know I should have given up on us by now. But I can’t.
Because when I close my eyes all I can see is yours and when I smell cinnamon all I can think about is the way the breeze would carry that scent to me from you and when I see anything yellow all I can feel is hate for the color that used to be my very favourite because it was your favourite too. I know I should not still hold this love for you, and yet I cherish it, because it is all I have left.”
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Unsaid Feelings
Poetry« collection of my feelings » You are still my favourite yet most painful story to tell
