I'm not 𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠
I'm 𝖕𝖔𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖈

The way he holds me in his arms
The smile on his handsome face,
The look in his blue eyes
The way in which he smells,
The sound of his  gentle voice.

The sound of his laughter
His sweet kisses
Being wrapped in his love
Feeling the warmth of his skin
The way he always spoils me
he always calls me "Annie"

Let your soul
Feel the luxury
Of the gold
In your heart
Let your mind
Feel the breeze
Of the peace
At the shore
Let your life
Feel it’s existence
At the bottom
Of the void

There had been too much pleasure,
Too many excitements,
With only emptiness afterwards.

I like you, but you know
How it is,
Or maybe you don't know,
But it's still like this.