Poetry

Blue eyes

It's not just the colour of your blue eyes or the weird light brown hair that made me fall. It's the little things.

That time that you said you came to talk to me and we went on to talk about absolutely nothing but laughed at almost everything.

We are alike they say, like two pearls from sister shells.

Though I want to believe that, though I wouldn't mind it. I'm so scared. I'm scared that you're gonna wake up one day and think I'm not what you want. That I can be too much and maybe you only love me because you want to feel loved.

You're gonna wake up one day and realize that we won't get along. 

That I am too much of damaged goods covered in pretty wrapping paper. 

But somewhere in my head, I think you're damaged too. That we can build each other up with time, slowly mending the cracks and bruises that others, so blindly inflicted us with.

As long as you know that I will always look to you and no one else. That the feeling I might never ever love might be destroyed by you.

Maybe I can love you and maybe we will last.

Maybe there will come a day where I get to wake up in the morning and look at you, smiling at the thought of how lucky I am that we were meant to be.