The way the jeans hugged his waist
The way his smile was etched onto his face
The way his eyes looked into hers
As if he was trying to look into her soul
The way he walked
Like how he knew how handsome he was
The way he laughed
She had never heard a sound more beautiful
The way he was
Because he doesn’t see the way she looks at him
But if he did
He would see how perfect he really is
YOU ARE READING
The Life of Me
PoetryI'm just a teenage girl, trying to make sense of this crazy world.
