Everyday Little Things.


My dreams are usually filled with the scent of you and the taste of what used to be, what could have been.
But then I awake and I'm hit with the coldness of reality, you're not mine and never were.
But somehow my days always begin and end with the memory of our time together and how it seemed to be cut short like a flower picked by a toddler.
Even though the late nights alone with my thought filled cup of coffee were unbearable.
I still manged to swim threw the sea of sadness that engulfed me everyday and every night with an ache in my hallowed out chest.
I promise the everyday little things will not stop me from loving you.
But I promise my love for you will not stop me from living with the everyday little things that leave a print of agony on my beaten up heart.
♠ ♠ ♠
Original poem written by me.