oddly enough i didn't feel a thing. i didn't that spark of electricity when he held my hand, or when wrapped his arms around me. nor when we were together. i didn't feel orange nor pink when we kissed when we hugged, laughed and cried. when i fell asleep in his arms and he slept in mine, there was nothing, not a colour nor a spark of infatuation or lust, just a warm body on mine wanting to be loved when love wasn't there. it never was.
i guess what i wanted more was the concept of finally being with someone.
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romantic poetry
Poetrynot really about romantic poetry, just shitty poems from a shitty poet.
