i remember the way
his name escaped my lips
like a secret
i was dying to
spill.
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
23
i remember the way
his name escaped my lips
like a secret
i was dying to
spill.
