"It's still him isn't it?"
"At this point, I only miss him when it's 3 am and I have nobody to share the stars with."
"You miss the friendship?" she pushed.
"No. I'll tell you what I miss. I miss the thought of having someone there. I miss having someone say 'I love you' in a way worth far more than gold. I ache for the touch that sends butterflies in my stomach, I miss the way his dark eyes would dilate once they land on me. I miss how on that July night, I was where I wanted to be, because I had him. I miss having warmth, a shoulder to cry on, the laughter and most importantly a kiss. I miss having a best friend, composed in a companion that made us so perfectly complied yet so damaged. I miss how we started, just I hated how we ended."
"You hated how his reality started to taste."
I laughed.
"you can never trust the image your mind makes of an individual, it's incredible how fake your imagination can go."
- zmh
YOU ARE READING
the ruins of me
Poetryi love you; said me every time foolishly. if you see any grammer mistakes, please do not hesitate to contact me politely about them! also credit to whoever may have taken the picture of the flowers for my cover, I did edit it a bit but other than...
