His laugh is like my favorite song on repeat.
Pretty girls with pretty smiles desire his love.
But none of them will ever try to look out for him.
And someday he'll be someone, I hope he knows.
When he talks to me I always find myself smiling.
But there's a wall keeping me from coming closer.
He's still beautiful, miles away from here or upclose.
YOU ARE READING
Blooming thoughts.
PoetryAnd the flowers that he grew in my lungs turned to wilted flowers, making it harder to breathe. And then the rain made them bloom again.
