I stare at him as I proceeded along the shaky road.
He slowly dropped his contact from my skin.
He drops his gaze and I force myself to stare ahead.
His says my name one last time as I whimper his.
The door closes and I slide against it's icy surface, Feeling him doing the same from the other side of this solid border.
This was the end.
And there was no going back.
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...
