Why is it that the people who hurt us, occupy the most space inside our minds?
It's almost like we hand them a contract, that includes a longer lease,
giving them permission to take as much time and space as they need.
Because I don't remember the name of the boy who took my first kiss
that one night so long ago,
but I will forever remember the name of the boy who left fingerprints
on my skin and my heart and my lungs
as i breathed him in like oxygen, and he left me with nothing but smoke.
I don't think he will ever move out.
YOU ARE READING
This Book is Probably About You.
ŞiirHis eyes are the perfect poem, i'll spend forever trying to write. On an endless search for adjectives, to capture them just right. I could try to write their meaning, but I think you'd fail to understand. 'Cause nothing quite that beautiful could b...
