"her words described her
like her heart was whispering.
stealing glances, awkward pauses.
long afternoons, short time.
not expecting nor believing."
︎♡︎
time slowly flowed and spring turned into warm and sunny summer. during the two months nothing special happened, every day was the same as if i didn't need a change. i finished many books and left them on the counter. i saw the black haired girl sometimes while visiting library but besides a small talk, we didn't talk at all to each other.
but there was at least one thing i had made a progress with. i wrote poems. a person would think there wasn't anything to write about when you had such a boring life but i have to disagree.
everything you need is to concentrate on one thing or person and let your hand describe what your heart is telling. and i found this one person. it was her - the girl with short black hair. she didn't seem like a stranger to me anymore, rather someone who i was getting to know. she helped me with learning how to write poems more than the weather could. soon i found out she was different in a lot of ways from other people i often saw on the streets. and staring at her while reading quickly became my habit. i'd never thought i could've found something that would make me stop in the middle of the chapter. i'd never believed i could've written a poem. and now here i was - writing poetry about a girl i hardly ever talked to.
