I've spent years writing about moments and all the potential they hold, romanticising every look and touch and word. Why is it that when the most romantic thing has happened to me, I didn't want to write a thing? I always come here to vent about what could have been, I think. Now something has begun, I feel like I don't need to scream out with written words into a void of expectation. Instead I just keep going over a kiss in my mind - the build up, the cold night air, the words spoken afterward.
YOU ARE READING
muse
Poetry" because sometimes at night i like to muse, and maybe i could write these thoughts down "
