My Favorite Everything
You are my favorite kind of almost—
the taste of forever I almost have
the only home I came to know
not until everything fell apart
You are the best we-could've-been—
the pleasure I could have felt
but your heart grew tired of me
so you turned away and left
You are my favorite it-used-to-be—
the delicate touch I used to feel
and the first I see in the morning
but now it's all in the past to reminisce
But love, you will always be my favorite everything
though yours was now someone else's name
YOU ARE READING
Metaphors Beneath the Riptides
Poetry"Your I-love-you was like a scribble in a sand- At first it was there then next it was not" Metaphors beneath the Riptides An Anthology By Eos Pleuvoir 2020 Cover Made with Canva
