These are some poems that I have created over the years that I thought I should share with someone.
These poems are based off of people that I find really attractive, so please enjoy.
Normal - you
Italics - them
Slight smut warning.
"So she broke your heart?" I watch him as he looks down at his feet as he sits on the hill side. Sadness spreading all across his face. I look back at the landscape in front of us. "Damn her."
"Hey, now." I lift my head up to finally see her sitting next to me with her dress spread around her like the tall grass is. Her head whips back to me.
"Damn her, Laurie. She has had you wrapped around her finger for too long." His brown hair waves in the wind.
"Why are you being so hostile about her?" She bites down on her lip and goes back to gazing at the scene in front of her. Silence ensues as I wait for her answer.
"Because I would not do that to you." The cold air has bitten his cheeks pink, giving him the appearance of a younger age.
I say nothing as I examine the redness of her nose. She's cold and the sun is going down soon. I raise from my seat, looking down to her. I extend my hand to her. "We should go inside. I can feel the temperature dropping."
I stare up at his tall, slender presence, shocked that he has totally disregarded my confession. I ignore his false generosity and stay seated. "I'm alright here."
I draw in a breath slowly into my lungs as I slack my hand. I release the air to turn up the hill. "Come on. Let's go."
I don't move under his stare. His intimidating stare that I always longed for now annoys the daylights out of me.
"I'm sorry."
I look up to him, confusion spread across my features.
"I'm sorry that I only say her. I thought that she was the one. I knew that she would not love me the way I loved her. I'm sorry that I never saw you. And for that, I will always ask for your forgiveness."
I don't say anything as he extends his hand to me again. I look up to his eyes once more. I know that he definitely means what he says. The recent heartbreak still appears in his eyes, but a new sadness has accompanied the former. I take his hand.
She says nothing as she takes my hand. She stands and smirks at me. Her open hand goes up to my face to try and wipe any remnants of sadness from my skin. We turn, hand in hand, and walk up the hill.
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AN: Fuck the Oscars for not nominating Greta Gurwig for Best Direction.
