Look At What You Did To Us

Denys Nevozhai

Remember when you fell for her?

Under those shining stars, laying on the grass, talking about fairytales like you had lived through one. She looked like an unmade bed and you really wanted to fall asleep. Or fall in love.

Remember when you fell for her?

She told you things she’d never say to anyone. She danced her way through your heart until she found that it didn’t have enough room to let her in. But you were smart, you were selfish, you gave her hope like it was a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter day; she fell, she fell, she fell in love.

Remember when you fell for her?

Her warm fingertips touching your cold skin, she made you want to kiss her fears away, she made you want to tell her words you had tucked away into drawers of secrecy because you were scared of getting close to anyone.

Remember when you fell for her?

When she danced in the rain, you looked at her with the kind of eyes that would’ve made Neruda write poetry about how the wolf loved the moon but never let her know; or on how a man felt when he finally found the way to paradise.

Remember when you fell for her?

Her voice sparked fireworks in your heart but you refused to admit it. You drank enough to digest your feelings and woke up with the hangover of her thoughts. You were scared. You were scared. You were scared because you didn’t know how to handle your heart beating for someone else.

Remember when you fell for her?

How you ran away from her, how she called out to you but you failed to love back, how you were crying on your way home, how you said you were strong enough to not fall in love, how you believed it by telling it to yourself each day, how you let her go because keeping her close made you vulnerable and soft; something you couldn’t afford being.

Months later,
Your eyes turned cold
At the sight of her,
You laughed nervously
As if you didn’t care
But you know deep in your heart
You ached for her touch ;

When you met her for the first time
I’m sure she looked
Like a made bed to you
Because all you ever did after that
Was mess her up;

You made a poet
Stop writing about love;
Look what you did
To us. TC mark


More From Thought Catalog

blog comments powered by Disqus