how funny it is

how funny it is

that after three days of lying next to someone,

sharing secrets, matching heartbeats, and pressing lips together,

one can fall in the first stages of what may very well shape up to be love.

I stay silent.

I cannot let him know how I feel.

how stupid it is

to know that I’ll be leaving in one month’s time and never coming back.

I’ll never be in your bed again. Never be in Ferncliff Hall again. Never climb those stairs, trembling with anticipation and longing, again...

yet I cling to you anyway.

I get lost in those beautiful emerald eyes time and time again.

I memorize the body that gives me much more than a casual fuck.

(even though that was more or less what was originally intended)

I learn the way your mouth moves and the way you love the curves of my fingers and the color of my eyes.

 

It’s gonna hurt like hell to walk away from you.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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