remembering how to fall in love is hard when you have had your heart broken pretty badly.I forgot how it feels to spend every moment of your innocent being, thinking about someone who you come to find out; isn't thinking of you.
I forgot how it feels to kiss someone's lips and feel right at home. Or hug someone and feel your insides warm and your heart beat a pace faster.
I forgot the feeling of willingness to do absolutely anything or break any rule for someone who you thought was your everything.
I've learned to feel new things now that it's over.
I can't think about another man the way I thought of him.I can't say "I love you" and hold the same hearty meaning as it did when the words were for him.
I can't find attractiveness easily anymore, because now I know that attraction is held deep within the core, the mind and the personality rather than the physical being.
Every time I think about him, I find myself grieving.
he's not thinking about me anymore, it's been months. he's thinking about her.
I think of him everyday. I think of all the lies and words he told me that I fell to believe. I reminisce back on the memories and the feeling of his hand in mine.
I miss the innocence of myself that I was before I met him, and I wish I would have just saved it a little longer for someone else.
but I didn't, and I'm okay.
I remember how bad I wanted him. how close I was to getting him. How pure I was, and how much patience it took.
He told me he loved me and he would do anything for me.
He said he wasn't used to such a pure soul as I.
But he said he was willing to take one hundred steps back for me because he loved me.
When he held me, his scent and masculinity along with the sound of his heart beat made me feel so very safe.
his smile made my body take on a completely ratifying experience; my stomach did a few flips and my heart skipped a few beats.
His eyes; fuck.
Green, blue, brown and all the colors that seemed so sweet and pure. they matched the colors of the earth, which meant a lot to me because he was my world.
his body; insecure, pure, masculine but held a sweetness and purity that he, himself struggled to see.
I saw it.
I reminded him everyday.
I loved him.
I remember the day he held my face in his hands and just looked deeply into my eyes, the kind of stare that makes you want to look away because it's so strong.
"I don't usually go for brown eyed girls, but you're different."
I held onto those words he said for so long.
YOU ARE READING
to fall
PoetryA little something I've accomplished throughout the past few weeks; just a small project. This is very important to me and vividly describes what my first love was like. Hope people can relate or better understand the conflicts, problems but crazy l...