Any Trace Of You Is Burned Into The Back Of My Mind With The Pen I Used To Write Our Love Story
any trace of you is burned into the back of my mind with the pen i used to write our love story
A.R. {all six hundred and thirty pages}
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“Oh, but you don’t know. You don’t know what your ocean eyes and innocent smile could do to a girl like me; A girl who overthinks every little thing.”
A.M. {hope}
“I will never fall in love with him,” my mind vows.
And then my heart murmured, “My dear, when will you realize you already have?”
A.M. {you can’t fool your own heart}
our little secret
let’s hide under the covers of stolen glances and goofy faces,
the uncontrollable laughter and obvious admiration,
while we endlessly argue the fact that we are not in love
- to my ‘almost’
a.r.
“You aren't even mine, but I still love you like you are.”
A.M. {unrequitedly}
“how do you expect me to remember how to breathe when you’re looking at me like that?”
- A.M. {you}
free
there are days where i can dream,
where your ghost doesn’t come back to haunt me,
days where i can find my own type of love and peace within myself,
and almost every sharp, broken piece of you has faded away with time.
those are the days i live for.
those are the days i can finally breathe.
- to all the toxic people i’ve endured
a.r.
i want to feel the tingles of electricity shoot up my arm when you touch my hand; a simple act, that holds so much meaning. i want to feel the flutter my heart makes in its cage, as my name rolls off your tongue; the way you make it sound as if it’s the most beautiful word. i want my head to spin as the world around us begins to fade away, the moment your lips gently press onto mine; each passionate kiss carved into my memory. i want the love that causes a shiver throughout my body at the mere thought of you; the one that will soon make me fall apart without you. but, here i am, sitting alone in a crowded room, wondering if i’ll ever experience a type of love as ultimately consuming as that.
A.R. {the type you read about in novels}
in too deep
your blue eyes always resembled a stormy sea;
the kind with strong waves crashing against the jagged rocks below,
the kind of waters that people put up warning signs for
the kind that dares for only the bravest of the brave to jump into
and by the time they found me, i was already addicted to drowning
- no one could save me from you
a.r.
sometimes, i wonder if i'd pushed myself just a little harder in the past, i would have held onto something meaningful by now.
- a.m. {they never last}
haunted
your ghost
still leaves kisses
on my cheek to
make sure
i never
forget you
a.r.
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