To be a pencil sketch on your heart. Always in fear of being smudge, of being lost from your mind. No longer being beautiful, the only compliment you've ever given me. To be lost would be such a terrible thing. To only exist in your memory, I fear you'd never remember to remember me.
CITEȘTI
Blue Eyes and Other Sources of Drowning
PoezieFor the boy with blue eyes. For the love and friendship I grieved, and many other things. Started: 11/20/20 Finished: 8/8/22 My 8th poetry book.
