It started out with your presence,
Then ever so slow it was your smile,
Then your smell.
Then everything you did just became intoxicating to experience.
The looks, the sly glances you throw my way.
It warms me in ways I never knew I needed.
But though days stretch and words seem too frail to throw.
I can't seem to not think about you, and even when I try. It is your smile.
YOU ARE READING
Salvaged Soul
Poetry"The mind is a beautiful servant but a dangerous master" It said "so i must then let it serve my soul" I whispered A salvaged soul is not new, it is old. It has lost and is still losing but is no longer who it was when it first broke. To be one step...
