To those that broke my heart
&
To those helping me fix it.
[note: guys. These excerpts are not perfect. I get all insecure when it comes to writing poetry or expressing myself because I'm not very good at it. These are genuinely what I feel and ho...
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I hate that the right side of the bed is empty. I hate that it is you-less. I don't like that I miss you, from time to time. I miss how your voice gets deeper than it already is, in the morning. Your voice, it's a velvety song to my ears. Smooth. Comforting. I miss the way your emerald eyes stared back into my dull, brown ones when I wake. Your eyes are like the waving leaves of a forest, mixed with the ocean tides. I miss how you'd remind me that my eyes are not dull. How you'd call me be beautiful, when I feel that I am not. My right arm, runs through the empty side of the bed where you used to lie I still feel your warmth. I still smell your sweet, strong cologne, lingering my favorite sheets. I still hear you saying, "Good morning, beautiful." Come back to me. Make the right side of the bed, not empty again. I miss you.
