sat at a kitchen table
mouth is dry and lips alike.
i'm shrugging off last nights conversation,
it didn't make sense to me.
dumb and in love,
i think it was just me.
i wonder if i'm ever on your mind,
i need a message or a sign.
maybe when it rains outside,
you'll remember they're my
favorite days.
im still sat here
at the table,
but coffee's spilled,
and the newspaper is damp
from the tears and
bittersweet caffeine.
YOU ARE READING
a hopeless romantic's winding tales of love and other things.
Poezjaventing via poetry, as it seems to move me forward ... enjoy! most of these are probably gonna be super lovey dovey. ♡
