T H E N ;
he sang 'remembering sunday'
to me at three thirty am and
said beautiful things that made
every horrible thing seem to
disappear. he told me, weather
it's days or years; he wanted to
spend it with me. he told me he
would come if i needed him and
i did. i needed him. then he was
there and he held me so tightly,
kissed me so hard that it bruised
my lips and i didn't even care.
i spent the morning feeling loved,
feeling like i mean something to
someone and like i wouldn't be alone.
he took me home, kissed me hard,
and told me we would talk later.
N O W ;
i see him in the people you may
know section on facebook. he's happy,
he's smiling, and he has a girlfriend. a
girlfriend that is pretty and blonde and
absolutely everything that i'm not. it hurts
to see his picture there, to think that
he's singing to her, he's kissing her hard..
it's not me. it was never me. i wonder if he sees
me in his suggestions section on facebook.
I wonder if he thinks of me, ever, at all. it still
brings tears to my eyes when i think of that
night. i curse myself for believe beautiful words
from a beautiful boy that didn't care even a
little about me. i wish he would choke on
those beautiful words, beautiful little lies.
YOU ARE READING
saudade
Poetry( n o u n ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost.
