i sat in a coffee shop and thought of you.
running my fingertips along the smooth canvas of silky napkins.
the exact opposite of us.
we were desolated hearts made to wallow in each others burden.
we were like coffee creamer:
made to disguise darkness so no one really knew us.
we were tears. and in the end, all we knew how to do was weep.
YOU ARE READING
nostalgia. || orig. poetry
Poesía"whoever said little things don't matter has never seen a match start a wildfire." -beau taplin
