Loving you was being blanketed by a starry night sky,
Slow dancing in our towels,
Orange night light and suppers,
Random afternoon cuddles,
Or 5 min morning cuddles even.
But loving you was also constantly asking myself why,
While I outline the cracks on my door.
Loving you came with broken laptops and plates,
As if breaking my heart wasn’t enough.
Loving you was a waste of time,
It was not real, it was never genuine.
Loving you was a mistake.













