heart shaped glasses

peut être... || maybe...

Some of the things I will never be able to tell you.

You were every golden sunset I couldn't take a picture of because my parents confiscated my phone.

I was the first poem you had written after months of watching reality TV.

To you my love was the plastic cover a hole in the roof. Sure it's okay, but at the end of the day you want a proper roof. You want actual love.

Your love to me was breakfast. I love it but some days I wake up to late. Or, some days I don't want to go through the hassle of making breakfast. So, I skip it.

But what we've done to each other is worse than that mean girl that sits at the back of the class. She's racist and rude, but, you're you.

I can recall the other women's taste perfectly. She's three day old chicken, left in the cold fridge to rot. She'll never compare to me even if tried.

And I'll never understand why you chose her. You're mind was just as confusing as seventh grade science, no wonder I got a C.

I compare you to so many things, golden sunsets and the witch from Hansel and Gretel included, but nothing will compare to you.
And that's the problem.