Those who know, do. Those that understand, teach.
I am forgetting the sound of your voice and how I felt for you; this dream was long but I’m waking up.
I want to be the first thing you touch in the morning, and the last thing you taste at night.
My talents include sleeping and pretending that I’m doing okay.
I walked away,
thinking you’d follow.
When you eventually left, I couldn’t remember the sound of your footsteps walking away. My best friend asked me why I thought you were any different than the others when you broke my heart too, but my memories of you are filled with the sound of your laughter and the creaking of wooden floors when we snuck into the kitchen to raid the fridge. I may remember that dreadful afternoon but all I think about is the day we met and our conversations about Game of Thrones and which dessert to eat for breakfast. My mind constantly holds onto the memories of your hand in mine and the kisses you stole when I was being too sassy for my old good. I have the tendency to fall in love with the memory of you, over and over again, even if you have already fallen out of love with me.