12:01 am
i always write about the green/blue eyed boy with fingers icier than his indifference but a shining smile like a bear trap for hearts. His eyes changed from green to blue like his feelings that he held in his heart. people asked: "why don't you just stop? why don't you just let it roll over and pass?" and i don't think they can comprehend that it's not so simple. sure, he left me with the shattered parts of my heart in my arms, letting me standing there in the cold breeze while a blizzard of tears fell from my eyes and old sweaters for traces of his cologne; he broke me. even so, it's not that easy. nothing ever is. they don't understand how he still looks my way when no one else is watching. they'll never get it through their heads that he's not over me, either - it's under how close he sits next to me, coiled deep inside the way his fingertips squirm in his lap and almost reaches for my thigh when we sit besides each other. he trembles when we make eye contact across the cafeteria and watches me as i fake a smile and he forces an obnoxious laughter with a regretful look on his face because he can't stand the thought that i might find someone new and possibly better. they will call me stupid and oblivious and pathetic for believing that the blue eyed boy who left me could possibly regret how things ended - that he still cries about it - but i know he does. and they don't know anything. people hardly ever do.
(this took a lot of me to write ;( and even still, i cried when i did...)
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intoxicated // poetry || 01
Poetry[ book 01 - completed ] emotions are not meant to be bottled up, and i knew at the second your breath intoxicated my lungs, that emotions were meant to be wild, spread out, and if you can survive the journey, it'll be one hell of a story. ███████...
