On our first
I had to think the last time I laid my eyes on lovers. To the time my eyes were so sullen right before my heart thought to stop loving. With my lone memories of being in pure love and broken, I cussed them that kind of love would work but an old, creaky clock. That most time spent was only wasted time. Those years of being imprisoned supposed to be spent well with worthy others. I remembered that time when I sip a cup of coffee. As I gulped a cup of pride and spitted a half of prejudiced love, to which I truly knew never existed. My heart was too heavy.
And then you came.