four days and three nights–
i've spent so long thinking about who she really was;
not a name, not a place –
i have no clue where she could be found.
four days and three nights–
i've been playing the same scene in my mind;
the lady who passed by me that very night,
without a curtsey, without a smile–
she had no idea who i was.
four days–
i've been wondering why,
three nights–
she looked my way and just blinked her eyes.
YOU ARE READING
lovesick
Poetrylove transforms princes to poets. the thoughts he writes down; the papers he slips inside the glass jar. (a/n. prepare for a shitload of cheesiness) cover art by © saegome
