Brown... The color of you inside me. The color of your iris. The shade of your hair. The color I seem to think about when loneliness creeps in. The dramatic irony I never saw when I glanced at you for the last time. Wearing white and a big smile on your face. Oh, all I could do to bring that moment back when your brown pallet iris, my favorite color, is locked with mine. I don't like me very much. However, I like me when I am with you. You have a gift of knowing when something is wrong with me. Am I that easy to read, or you actually do have a gift of being all knowing. To me, you are all knowing when I am sad, angry, frustrated, or happy. You are all powerful= the ability to compel me to do all things that are bad for me, to bring to my knees, and beg for your unrequited love. Oh, please love me the way lovers should be. I would spend my last dime just to get a glance with a big smile on your face, telling me everything is going to be okay. For now, I will plaster a fake smile and pivot until I can stare through the window for your glance.
YOU ARE READING
The story of you,me, and everything else in between
PoetryHave you had a feeling that someone was meant for you. No, well you are a lucky. I have had the feeling where a glance from her would make me heart pulsat, and my hands ache to touch her. A violation of my body that doesn't not agree with my mind. A...
