the reddest truth hurts,
i should've known from the very first start,
roses and hyacinth, when combined,
are as ugly as my writing style.
the reddest truth hurts,
you are near,
so near,
but, love, you're so unreachable,
it's breaking me apart.
YOU ARE READING
little red
Poetrythe back of your head was etched in my memory, the scent you left in the corridor was sweet but quite melancholy, that pale red mask was haunting, that laugh is all i can hear everywhere, that divine smile is my everything.
