When I first met you,
we were on a grey tinted beach,
the waves crashing behind us as our feet sank in the wet sand.
Your long hair was tied back,
a cigarette dangling from the corner of your smiling mouth,
your cheeks rough from stubble,
your oversized sweater damp with rain.
Your grey eyes were expectant, but distant.
Your shoulders would rise and fall with carelessness.
You were transparent, reflecting everything thrown at you.
Maybe that's why I took the chance, and brought you home.
You were this mystery that I wanted to unravel,
but I never dreamed that you would instead,
unravel me.
YOU ARE READING
Seeking Solace
Poetry"No One Sane writes a novel" "Now you see What's wrong with me." // Chicklit #366 Miscellaneous poems of a never ending sort.
