Haven’t you heard?
Love is also the rarest palette.
Some bright days,
I am just another figure lost in the
crowd, but my scarlet cheeks are a
reminder of the writer whose name
is etched onto my heart.
It thaws away my frozen heart
to know he’s planning on staying.
We dust ourselves off from every single word,
the things we used to tell them,
the words we hated to say,
the words we couldn’t come up with
when the time called for it.
There will be days…
and there will be nights…
but I think it’s worth a