A quick summary of my thoughts today.
The crinkles of your smile tell the best kind of story.
I want to trace your freckles with my fingertip and lose myself in the beauty of your eyes
Press my thumb to your lips before I catch them with mine
And lose myself in the sweetest way.
Sometimes I think about the way you smile
And I want to die.
Sometimes I think about the way you laugh.
I want to cry.
You reduce me to banality and insufferable giggling
And tears in my bedroom when my charade cracks.
I broke my heart into pieces already, just so it would be out of the way.
Better sooner than later, I always say.
Though I procrastinate the truth, and that way it shall stay.
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