And no, I am not writing this to make it seem I hated you,
every bit of what we had was true, in my side at least.
It started with that song, your voice,
the bed followed, your kisses and my whole being drawn to you,
ending to what seemed tears and my self-pity.
You opened doors for me,
And I am sorry,
For this time on, all we had was that memory,
Of doors opened and my soul broken.
You had my youth.
YOU ARE READING
Lip-prints & Bite marks
PoetryI could remember it all, up to the minute of details. How it all started with a kiss and ended to what seem like tiny foot prints all over your body.
