The Other Side
We are perfect for each other
like the way the Moon and Earth
revolve around an endless waltz,
but I don't love you the way
you deserved to be loved. The spark
isn't there. I imagine that love
is just a word of colors. We
aren't on the same spectrum
and the feeling that grows from
the pit of my stomach isn't
there anymore like an empty
cave after a bear has awaken
from its hibernation. I am astronaut
in the coldness of space, waving
his hand trying to touch the rim
of the bright blue atmosphere.
Goodbye, there's nothing more to say.
15:11
No comments:
Post a Comment