I
wish I could turn back time to
when simply seeing you
wouldn’t
send the butterfly fairies in my stomach fluttering
or discovering secrets that i didn’t
know
about you couldn’t possibly feel as if i unearthed
a hidden treasure of enchantment.
if
love was to swallow your smiles,
and breathe in your miracles, than
i
can taste your empty promises on my tongue,
and feel your ignorant whispers on my skin.
could
love prevail? is it something only found in fairytales,
where make-believe suddenly becomes something we
call
home; because such child’s play possesses the ability to
divert our attention away from the harshness of reality.
this
infatuation, of all things,
simply cannot, should not, would not be
love.
(Right?)
No comments:
Post a Comment