Streaks of your hair
left strokes of our memories.
Golden yellow morning light,
can't make me feel alright.
You buried your head
in the groove of my neck.
You whispered secrets and love,
made me lose my head.
A smile got wasted,
in the realization of reality
that our time was a dream wasted,
and we - pathetic dead lovers.
Jan 18, 2018
Jan 18, 2018 at 1:14 AM UTC
Streaks of your hair
left strokes of our memories.
Golden yellow morning light,
can't make me feel alright.
You buried your head
in the groove of my neck.
You whispered secrets and love,
made me lose my head.
A smile got wasted,
in the realization of reality
that our time was a dream wasted,
and we - pathetic dead lovers.
