broken heart

If anything I’d hold your hand so tight, but your tiptoeing towards the other direction. Not a peek of sound, I didn’t even see the motion. I was blinded with my blood, my leg is stained with pen ink. Useless butterflies, your name was written in every single one. When I said I love you I really meant it, every single word I said I truly meant it. I never once lied to you, but to you I was nothing a stranger with foreign love. 

 

I looked in your eyes and felt something I’ve never felt, it was probably a trick my mind was playing on me. The way you said goodbye, it felt comforting, I called you my yellow. I really thought you were the one. 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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