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He Love's Me, He Loves Me Not

And his eyes...they weren't exactly brown, or green for that matter, but they were a perfect mixture of both.
The freckles on his face; each one was perfectly placed.
His kisses, how I loved so much.
This touch...oh, how I long for it so much.
Running my fingers through his hair...vacant space is this air.
Falling asleep in empty arms...his warmth, gone.
Just cold bitterness lingers here...and heartache.
Here I am, a thousand miles away, yet in my heart, nothing has changed.





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theatregirl This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Oct. 11, 2012 at 5:35 pm
good  poem. i guess everyone on teen ink is bring the romantic breakup poem back.
 
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