I'm always walking a line with her. When I'm
talking,
thinking,
breathing,
around her.
And there's something to be said about walking that line, the truth that hangs out in front of me or behind.
That I care enough
To stay up with her
Until the sun rises
Just so that I can see her smile
That I can feel my heart melt when she does
When our friends look at me, knowing.
There's something to be said about knowing that she could never care for me in the same way
That she'll find a boy who can do the same.
But that's okay.
Because there's something to be said about love.
YOU ARE READING
White Out (Poetry Collection)
Poetryyou weren't supposed to see this. •••••••••• a diary of imagination; a life where the lines are blurred. a memoir of things that never happened, and a few that did.
