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Sep 2015 · 1.2k
Celladora
Romina Shyle Sep 2015
I remember how we first met,
It's a blurred image of you and the rain
Right now the things I love the most.
I remember our first fight,
you, yelling at the top of your lungs
And me,  crying my eyes out on the other side of the phone
I remember our first kiss,
I still feel bad for pulling you close so I could kiss you forever,
But you said you liked it, so it's okay.
And then I remember every time we broke up
Every broken heart, every broken moment, every shattered piece of heart
I also remember me always coming back and you always forgiving me.
This time had to be different, not the good kind of different

They say time heals everything, and I will get over you
You were the most beautiful shade of blue, but blue to me is just a color.
Of course I will get over you
Over your hugs and kisses, because I never stayed up late
thinking of how time stops every time we touch.
Of course I will get over you
You were the only reason I loved writing poetries
But poetries never meant anything to me, anyway.
Of course I will get over you,
I will eventually get over you.
And I think I know the perfect time when to

I will get over you soon,
As soon as I start believing Emma Bovary was a total *****,
And Jessie J is a bad singer,
And poetries are just words connected to one another,
And Sleeping at Last is so not the best music band ever.
I will get over you as soon as I start hating rain,
Or think that black is the most beautiful color,
Or just claiming that black is a color to begin with.
As soon as I start being all passionate about studying Biology
Or stupid trigonometry.
I will get over you, just like I'll get over flowers,
Or Sasuke, or Zuko, or English.

They think I can't get over you?
I will get over you.
You still remind me of Saturn and Venus having a baby together,
That would have probably looked like you,
But they are just planets,
I don't like planets.
So I will get over you.

Just like that prince got over that beautiful girl he danced with until midnight,
Just like the sun gets over the moon every morning when she dies,
Just like Shakespeare got over his lover or Narcissus got over himself.
It's not that hard to get over you, come on.
I will get over you, as soon as I stop feeling.
I will get over you, okay?
Just not now.
Not today.
Not ever.

— The End —