wanting to be friends or to stay as friends
seems almost impossible
for the way that i feel about you—
i want to treat you like a normal person,
but when your name leaves my lips
it always come out like you're royalty
and it's my loyalty to you
that controls my feelings for you—
i wish i knew how to love you better,
i wish that i knew better.
love wasn't meant to be,
but i'll take friendship down as a settled score,
i wish i knew how to hold you tighter
without having to touch your skin—
how can i not love you
if i've seen your soul before
i've even seen your perfect smile?
does perfection exist?
because if it does,
then i've been meaning all of these words
and if love hurts, hurt me gently,
and if love hurts,
just don't say a thing when you leave me—
i know that we're just friends,
but some days—
i wish it was something more than kindred souls.
if lips could kiss without kissing,
you can have this poetry slipped into a farewell,
my darling.
YOU ARE READING
memento mori // poetry
Poetry" remember that you have to die " memento mori - /məˌmɛntəʊ ˈmɔːri/ noun an object kept as a reminder of the inevitability of death, such as a skull
