He had forgotten.
His eyes don't look the same anymore. They don't even look at her way. They don't cast lights of hope, dreams, love, and they don't burst in colours with pure happiness.
Have she broken him? Is that how much she had broken him? To the point that his lights have broken, his feelings have gone, his eyes flashing a hellish red, bright 'leave me alone' sign?
She is reminded of the old times: the times her flaws were loved and her troubles were passionately kissed, the times she fell in love so deeply so many times her eyes were blinded she could only see perfection in him, the times his eyes were the most beautiful pair she had ever gazed into. She is reminded of the warmth of his skin penetrating through his shirt, seeping through hers, and how much she had missed it all this time. She is reminded of the times she had watched his eyes fell as he whispered, "I love you," and how the stars glitter in them when she said it back.
A strand of his hair fell and her hand itched to push it back. He doesn't look up to smile at her, to wave at her, to show her that perfection exists. He can't even feel her presence anymore.
His hair gets pushed back by a delicate hand from across him, and then he smiled her favourite smile. The hand neither belongs to her or him.
She moves on.
---
[15/03/17]
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]
