i looked at him while he was busy looking at the sky. perfect silence and nothing to hide, "hey..."
and he caught me again. and each time, i'd look away, it will then be his turn to burn holes into me—
to the parts yet unknown
still he'll accept
still he'll make me love
"i'll be hoping that all of the mess i made...." i can't even finish it.
"don't affect me? i don't care about that, i already told you," he sighed like it's not something he should care about.
he should, he should, he should!
YOU ARE READING
Later
Poetrywhen the world is quiet and you can hear my thoughts-there'd be just your understanding, patience, and love? [COMPLETE ✔️]
