If poetry wasn't meant to be felt then why does every word hit your chest as if you re-lived a certain moment?
If poetry wasn't made to be relatable then why does every line feel so close as if you wrote the piece yourself?
We've all been there an...
Slipping her hand out of his, she looks down sheepishly with a half smile on her lips. 'What?' he smiles. 'It's just funny.' 'What is?' 'How I tell the girls to know their worth, constantly drilling the tell-tale signs of a man who doesn't care into their heads and teaching them to not get hurt.' 'How is that funny?' he asks without missing a beat. With a heavy sigh her glassy eyes meet his, getting lost in every swirl of his gleaming blues. He's always looked best in the light of the moon. 'Because, the second I look at you and every moment after, I forget every word and let you hurt me.'
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
