he's a man i finally learn to love. tender as dawn and mysterious as midnight. he's poetry, prose, a thousand classic romance novels. he smokes cigarettes outside when eyes shy away, my eyes fend off when i meet his. you can't tell but he paints my night a van Gogh's starry night.
he's twenty five to his friends but he doesn't know he's five to me, i adore him so. he lives in my daydreams. when he wakes up in the morning and pulls up the blinds, i cannot comprehend which view is the sunshine. he's really something else, i'd never believed in love but i hate that he's starting to make me.
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Let Me Rest For Awhile
Poetryshe's the main character falling in love with the wrong ones in this one. [poetry/prose]
