This is not about her.
This is not about the way her hand felt in mine, this is not about the moonlight in her hair and the sun in her eyes. This is not about her words she spoke in the middle of the night or how her soft lips tasted.
This is not about the day she told me I wasn't enough, this is not about how bad my heart hurt when I saw her two days later, her hand held by another or how she made her smile the way I used to. This is not about my cold bed my wet eyes or my empty chest.
This is about her.
This will always be about her.
YOU ARE READING
Poems I guess
PoetrySome poetry-ish things I've been working on, little writing pieces Idk just random things I feel like writing about.
