Loving You Was Natural

The first time that I laid my eyes on you, somehow it was natural for me to love you. Like everything that has happened, ends up with me being in love with you. Like you’re the only one person I see. Like you were just meant for me. Like it was only natural for me to write about you and only you. But maybe it was natural for you too; not knowing my existence, as I am just a speck if dust in your world. not knowing that there’s a person out there who loves you, quietly, wishing for you to notice that I exist.

In response to : Natural

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Suddenly, everything just vanished. He’s the only one you see. The way his eyes light up when he saw you walk in. The way he smiles as you take his arm. The way he smells as you hug him. And everything doesn’t seem to bother you anymore, because you only see him and he only sees you.

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Closed Door

Behind that door, is something that I never intend to go back to.

It’s where I left the ghost, and my supposed to be future—with you. But I never really left first did I? I waited and waited and waited for you to come back. I spent days, weeks, months just trying to keep myself together, thinking and hoping you’ll be back. And that’s when I knew, I was wasting my time when you really have no intention of going back.

It took a lot of courage just to walk out of the door when all my life all I knew was that I love you and we were supposed to spend the rest of lives together, and now it’s not possible. How could it—when you left?

One day you might realize your mistake of leaving me. One day you might come knocking on that door again, well guess what? You’ll never find me there, because I have no intention of going back.

Writer’s Muse

You were the main character of every story,
The espresso to my coffee,
The salt to my pepper,
The sundae to the hot weather,
The prince to the princess,
And even as you left,
That’s when I knew,
You’ll always be my muse.

With every inch of sanity that she has left, she pushed and shove the thought of you away. Knowing that you aren’t thinking of her, the way she does or the fact that maybe she doesn’t even cross your mind. Have you ever wondered if she was okay?

No, she has to stop this charade.

She has to choose herself. Like what she keeps telling herself at night, hoping that everytime she’ll say it, she’ll actually get there.

To have you in my arms again is all I ever ask for,
So please,
Stay this time,
And never let me go.