She longed for that old school kind of love. Inscribing the name of her lover on her school desk. The love letters she wouldn't stop receiving that took time and effort to write.
Kissing her lover underneath their special tree. She closed her eyes and her mind sank deep into memories. She always used to wear her favourite perfume because that was the fragrance her lover complimented most.
They held hands and forehead kisses had so much meaning... She reminiscented and a sudden surge of nostalgia entered her heart until her moment was disturbed by a phone text that was all abbreviations, that took no effort at all. She turned her phone off and cried. - Menzi Buthelezi
YOU ARE READING
Listen
AcakMy misunderstood soul speaks. I write to connect with the world. This is how I communicate and share my thoughts.
