Nothing Like Ordinary Love
What is love?
I know it’s something I don’t want to believe.
I know it’s not real, now.
Because you’re a stranger and I’m just your costumer.
It pains like a thousand daggers to know that I feel this way.
Not because you have no clue how I feel, but because in your world I don’t even exist.
What is love?
All I know is that the bangs that sweep across your head remind me of the fact that you have swept me off my feet.
And all I know is that each day the thought of you in my mind begins to grow smaller and smaller until you become a spot, a speck, then gone.
Why do I know?
Because this thing I call love is just a phase.
Just. Another. Stupid. Crush.
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Mon Journal.
My journal is what you can say my so-called blog. I just write whatever comes to mind or how I feel and all.
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