love.
it's such a trivial, trivial thing.
i think of how it's like to
hold you in my arms,
on late nights like these.
i think of how it's like to
kiss your lips
in the pouring rain,
and truth be told,
i haven't even kissed anyone.
i think of how it's like to
say your name over and over,
whispering, "i love you"'s,
in between them.
i do things
i don't really do,
and they're all insignificant,
because how can i even have you,
when you're not even within my reach?
YOU ARE READING
construing sentences
Teen Fictionthings can't always be bottled up. [lowercase intended // may contain second person point of view // trigger warning]
