They said
you’re a little crazy
with your
skin almost
as white
as a wall,
black hair
which reminds
everyone of
scary ravens,
and your
dark clothes and
bags under
your eyes.
They said
they don’t like you.
And then,
I knew
I had to
meet you.
So
I did.
I was
watching your moves,
and almost
praying to your eyes.
Kissing
your pale cheeks,
and
playing with your hair
longer
than mine.
I fell in
love with
your
sarcastic tone,
which
everyone hates
because
you’re just honest,
and with
your black
sense of
humor,
which no
one could
ever
understand but me.
I was
crying all three hours
in a bus when
I’d left you,
and
screaming loudly even
when about
ten pairs of eyes
were
staring at me.
I didn’t
care, I just loved you
and the
whole world
could see
me crying
and biting
my pillow!
All I
wanted, was to see
your white
face powder
spilled on
the sink again.
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