the slow art of breathing bitter

Aimless

The ones who had once

Let the raindrops drench every inch of their body—

Live in the poems that can only think of "you".

The ones who had once

Burnt in the sun, letting it burn their thoughts into ashes—

Create new tales of evening lights.

The new tales

Where love breaks the heavy rocks;

Waves gently crashing on the shore;

A purple glow that kisses the grey lines.

Your smell, like that of nicotine—

filling every thought of mine;

And love? Aimless!

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A/N: Well, what do you think about this? Share your thoughts, and vote anyway. Thanks! :)