𓂃✍︎ Mickaila Arcala
Red hearts turned to blue likes,sweet morning greetings became cold nights. I thought I was special, until you also lent her the sweater—
the pink one.
The one I used to borrow when heavy rain fell—it gave me warmth, making me feel safe from raindrops.
When I was alone, you sat beside me and cracked jokes.
Weary eyes paired with your concerned smile—somehow it was perfect. Like a rainbow lurking
behind lightning and thunderstorm, you were there during my lowest.
Perhaps, I became dependent,
thinking you would stay till the end. Or maybe I mistook your intention—it wasn’t love nor infatuation,
but simply a good deed.
You are just friendly, and I hate it.
