elise.writer

in the months of darkness and cold, i never stopped writing.

i just kept it all to myself. every night, my own religion

pages of pen poised on paper, pouring my heart out

i don't want to love someone

because i'm supposed to

you told me, one night in mid-july.

warm air and sun fading in the sky,

i want to fall in love with someone

i've heard this story a thousand times before.

i've seen it unfold. it started with a glance, became a smile,

became a longing. when i realized it was my turn,

i was too late. no one told me how hard it would be

i can only watch from afar, invisible

a ghost in your eyes, as smoke overwhelms you,

charcoal coating your lungs. i know

it's not what you want. we know

we didn't expect for it to end like this,

The more you became a memory, the more I'd fall in love.

I still remember that night.

But I remember before, even more. I dreamed of you at night

I wrapped myself in your arms by day.

you want it all, until you have it all

and then you just want to run away.

and i did. i broke my own heart.

i had him wrapped around my finger,

sidelong glances across the candlelit room