Last night I cried about you. The exact moment it happened I do not remember but I was hit with an overwhelming tide of emotion. Maybe it was when my friend wouldn't stop talking about your beauty and I was seeking his bare skin to put out my cigarette. Jealousy is ugly but my appearance could never compare to your lips, or the way you would look up through your eyelashes when you were scared or in love. (were they the same thing?)
Last night I cried about you. The exact moment it happened I do not remember but I was hit with an overwhelming tide of emotion. Perhaps it was when I realised I no longer searched for him in the poetry I wrote and read. Rather it is your inexplicable beauty and intelligence that I try to capture with stumbled words and drunken rants to people who don't really care.
Last night I cried about you. The exact moment it happened I do not remember but I was hit with an overwhelming tide of emotion. It could have been when I needed to ground myself to reality and so I thought of you. I dreamt of the curls in your hair as it slightly changed colour and I thought of your bed and the comfort that surrounded me when I was there. I thought of your mother, and the anger I feel towards your father. I thought of your laughter and the happiness it invokes whenΒ Β I hear it. I thought of your tears and the sheer anguish that follows.
Last night I cried about you. The exact moment it happened I do not remember but I was hit with an overwhelming tide of emotion. "Missing you comes in waves and last night I felt like I was drowning".
why do the work I'm supposed to be doing when I can be sad and write poetry instead.
I don't know where the lines in quotation marks originate from because i've seen them all over the place but yeah they're not mine.