He was the boy ,
With a calculus textbook with him all the time , headphones dangling.
I fell in love with his frequent deep sighs , messy hair , dimples , and soft chuckles. Although he never knew I existed, I continued loving him. There was something about his grins , his death stares and everything in between that stirred my heart. He wasn't mine but I fell. I did.
Now I don't recognise the feeling anymore , but he , he fell in love with me. Stained soul , unruly me. He could see things hidden in my eyes , trapped, and read them. It scared me. After years without acknowledgement from him, I moved on. Now how could I let him in ? He inhaled my scent of survival and foolishly believed it is beauty. And he fell. For me.
YOU ARE READING
Hurricanes of Life
Poetryof short stories and poetries that we write just to satisfy ourselves ; precisely our feelings .
