Your eyes are the softest shade of brown I've ever seen.
Your smile is the perfect representation of lovely
and your voice makes me want to write beautiful metaphors about you in 3 am handwriting.
I hope my poetry touches you in places my hands couldn't
and grows flowers in the saddest parts of you.

I have been yours for 730 days, 17,520 hours, 1,051,200 minutes and you have never been mine; not even for a second.

He let me borrow his kisses, his hands, his voice, and his body but I think I've seen her somewhere in his smile.
Which is probably why she looks so **** familiar.
I've questioned if she's already made you forget about me and when I saw the picture of you two smiling together; I found my answer.

Today I thought about how much I loved you.
                   I smiled.
And then remembered that you don't love me;
              not even a little.