I'm laying awake
staring at the stars
thinking of your beauty
somebody should be
3 am, not a chance I could sleep
thinking of your beauty
Thinking of who I've become without you
crawling back, are the memories
keep me guessing, were we even real? were you just a beauty of my imagination?
Love. I never have known the meaning. All the forms, I've felt something similar, but was it genuine? Is this all there is? I felt something so many times, I don't know what's genuine anymore. The infatuation. I'm confusing it for love. When you lay your hands on me telling me I'm pretty. I'm confusing it for love. When you slip your fingers between my shorts. I'm confusing it for love. When your lips are on mine. I'm confusing it for love. When you tell me you care about me. I'm confusing it for love. When you told me you loved me. I mistook what we had for love.
YOU ARE READING
Her mind..
PoetryA journey through her mind, her struggles; her pain, her heart, her soul and her mind, all expressed through words.
