He’s a love struck Romeo whose eyes used to follow my steps. He played with my hair like his fingers were fire and my hair was a watery relief. His kisses were so drippy with ache that once, they even made me cry. And then he cried because I cried.
Just, Hazel
Holy....YES. I don't think there's anything left to say. Brilliance.
ReplyDeletemeans a million
DeleteSo nice.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteHeartbreaking.
ReplyDelete"He played with my hair like his fingers were fire"
ReplyDeleteI know that wasn't the end of the sentence, but I couldn't read any more.