Our love was the inconvenient kind.
Where we were always just missing our chance.
our fingers would brush but our palms would never meet.
You smelled of early mornings and honey, but I smelled of late nights and coffee.
Our love was the inconvenient kind.
I was a poet but you were a painter.
You liked sand between your toes where I preferred a canopy of trees overhead.
Our love was the inconvenient kind.
For when we finally met our words got in the way and our interests clashed.
You wanted to settle down, I wanted to see the world.
Our love was the inconvenient kind because one day as we watched the sunset we said forever than one day as we watched the sunrise we said goodbye.
Our love was the inconvenient kind.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy That Never Forgot Their Name
PoetryStep into the life of a mystery in this poetry collection exploring romance, death,pain, and creatures out of this realm. Forget what you have learned of heartbreak and ghosts because when you walk into the forest I promise that you will know the tr...
