It was the eighth of February,
a week before Valentine's Day,
when I first heard your voice-
rising above the world's noise.
I curled beneath the sheets,
while you spoke about yourself.
Your voice was a cotton candy-
soft, dissolving, sweet.
But what stood out to me,
wasn't how you sounded,
not the way you talked-
it was the moment you opened up,
and told me everything.
Your pain,
Your fear,
Your longing,
Your heart-
I've resonated with them all.
And I fell in love,
even though you don't know me...
even though you're not really here...
even though we've never met...
even when all you are-
is just a voice on my radio.
YOU ARE READING
The Red String: The Connection We Can't Explain { Poetry Collection}
PoetryThey say that two people connected by the red string are destined lovers-no matter the place, time, or circumstance. This invisible thread may stretch, tangle, or fray... but it never breaks. A bond that defies logic, yet feels achingly real. This...
