False passion

I should have known

when I lost the taste of your lips,

and forgot the warmth of your caress,

that we were no longer in love.

…

The blissful days

of summer’s interlude

filled with memories

of laughter and sheer joy

seem almost like a distant memory.

…

If I were to pinch my skin now,

will I wake?

…

Your hateful face is blurry now

and the imprints of your hands

are finally fading.

…

I should have known

that when I was away from you,

I was the happiest I’ve ever been,

bingeing on your skin

and pleasure,

dizzy with rebellion and false maturity,

you were on of my biggest regrets.

But I’m glad that I met you.