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mia Sep 2015
it's time.
it has been three months.
you have moved on.
you have found someone else.
you even admitted you never loved me.
i should let you go.
it's time.

*but i can't let you go.
i miss you, but *******.
mia Aug 2015
i used to write poems about my love for you,
and now,
i write poems about the pain of losing you.
i used to be somewhat happy,
and now,
i cry myself to sleep every ******* night.
i used to spend every second of every day talking to you,
and now,
i spend every second of everyday hoping and wishing you will text me.
**you were the reason for my happiness,
and now,
you are the reason for my sadness.
i feel like this is such a ****** piece but *******, i miss him.
mia Aug 2015
i was never in love with you, i just
couldn't accurately describe the color
of your eyes. they weren't blue but
they weren't green either. maybe they
were a blue green? no, definitely not.
i was never in love with you, my heart
just beat so fat it could basically
jump out of my chest when your
fingers brushed against my thigh, and
were between mine.
i was never in love with you, i just
couldn't get you off my mind.
i was never in love with you, i just
stared at your lips while you spoke,
and even when you weren't speaking.
your lips that used to be pressed to
mine. the trails of kisses you left still
burning my skin.
i was never in love with you, it just felt
like i was.
(who am i kidding, i loved you with all i had,)
this poem is not mine, i take no credit. all credit goes to @wastedpoems on Instagram (: definitely check the page out !!
  Aug 2015 mia
pluie d'été
we will all stop writing poetry
because everything we write
becomes true
and our pens don't stop bleeding
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