i sort-of wished that he noticed me,
standing there with my sort-of smile.
but if he were to catch me looking,
i could bet my cold heart
that it would beat
out-of-sorts.
YOU ARE READING
blinded
Poetryshe was blinded by his perfection. he was too blind to realise. ☁ [copyright simile-, two thousand and fourteen] #140 in Poetry | #904 in Romance
