You see things in black and white. I see things in reds, purples, and greens.
You take things as they are. I dig deeper into why they are that way.
You don't get what it means to feel as if someone doesn't love you. I don't get what it means to not care.
You're happy with being alone. I'm not happy unless I'm with someone else.
You find happiness in a book or being outside. I find happiness in partying and surrounding myself with things that will affect me later.
You find happiness in complete silence, but the silence kills me inside.
We're complete opposites, so why do I feel as if we are whole when I'm with you?
- Author: MariiFranklin ( Offline)
- Published: September 13th, 2023 16:15
- Category: Love
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Soman Ragavan
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