He is the type of person to hold all his cards close to his chest, not knowing you can read them anyway. He doesn't mark his arrival and departure with a postage stamp or airport scene like the others. Instead, he slowly fades away like morning mist, not realising you admire him like a sunrise.
Darling this is what it is to be in love with someone you are not allowed to have. Writing poems in the dark. Head in the clouds while his rests on her shoulder. Holding a pen instead of his hand.
You have locked yourself in a sinking safe and neither of you have the key. I'm sorry you won't have a good view of his smile as the water fills up your lungs, but at least the sky's tears look similar to his eyes.
He is the type of person who will keep trying to love her, even if he is not in love with her. And what is a sunrise, if not someone who arrives every morning, even if nobody stops to appreciate them?
He cannot love you, even if he is sinking too... in the familiarity and habit of her.
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My Trophy, Your Trophy
I'm sure that you're familiar with the way airline stewards and stewardesses teach us to always wear life-saving jackets for ourselves, before helping our family members to do so, in the event of an emergency. It's a sensible notion, considering that our family members have a better chance of survival if we're there to help them.
By Michelle Liew5 days ago in Poets
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