you, to me, are just an irony.
you're like a blank space
filling up a canvas,
a hot cup of tea
on the warmest summer day,
a cold shower
in the middle of winter,
you're the lines and patterns
on my plain white shirt.
you and me, we're such an irony.
i always tried to figure you out
when you never made sense.
i always tried to search for you,
but you were always out of my reach.
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1 am » poetry
Poetrywhen you still have this tiny, tiny bit of hope inside of you that they will learn how to love you again, even if there's this bigger part that knows: they never will. © sushitae- 「 highest ranking: #19 in poetry 」
