She was a writer

This goes out to you,
You exactly know who the hell you are,
And sadly I knew too but I loved you for that too.
It's funny how I end up at the start even after walking miles.
The impenetrable armour that I built around me gives way to your bullets,
What is more painful, the bullet wounds or the fact that you never saw?
Sad how you know you love her but you'd never be the one,
Sad how you give her the goodmorning kiss and then you wake up, from your dreams.
Strange how the stars were so far away and hiding behind the clouds,
And yet I could see each one of them in her eyes.
Well, Beautiful things are a view unless you have to see them go.
I've been to these places and I've been loving her to the traces,
She left behind walking away from me,
I talk as if she was ever mine.
She was a writer,
But she could never complete my one sided love story.
But she'll always be the prettiest girl In the room.

-The Sceptical Spectacles

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