June 21, 2014 10:21 a.m.

14 2 8

by riaaaa13

by riaaaa13

And at two-thirty on a Friday

She began to pick up the pieces he left behind

She looked at the new boy standing in front of her

And hoped that something would come out of this

That this boy was different

He wasn’t the same boy who broke her heart five months ago

This boy was nice; something he was not

And he always wore blue button downs

Which she always had a weakness for

The new boy always watched her

To see her reactions

To get to know her

And she loved that

His smile was beautiful

It made her happy

And for the first time in a long time

She began to feel alive again