I remember the days you looked at me almost as if I was a piece of art inside a museum. Concealed from the world, from all the bad things. Amazed at what you saw, I was beautiful to you, I was flawless.
I was flawless because I easily had so many kinks that could be pointed out, but those kinks in no way tarnished my true qualities and in a way made me seem more beautiful and real to you.
Starting out far, separate, but gradually growing closer and closer.
We shared an Infinite amount of things that nobody in the world could even guess.
I let your lips brush against my face, my neck, my chest, my hips, and thighs. You let my head fit perfectly in between your neck and collar bone, and when I breathed slowly, with my draft hitting your neck, you let out a slight giggle, letting me hear your voice crack.
Now, yesterday, today, tomorrow. The future.
You do not pertain to my future.
Never do I catch a glance from you, not one not ever.
I am invisible, and you see right through me.
No longer looking into me like a book, you looked passed me almost as if I am no longer reality, I am a ghost.