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literature

First Love

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She went home
To lie down
Onto her bed
Staring up at her ceiling
Dreaming of 
What it be like
To fall in love
For the first time
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© 2018 - 2019 kandi
First love poetry        
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He is not an Edward. He doesn't stare at me every minute he is with me. Or smell my hair and watch me sleep. Won't follow me, like a lost puppy, Sometimes, he'll even walk away. He doesn't love me for my faults, It's in spite of them. He'll notice pretty girls, even think of past lovers… When he laughs at me, it's because I'm silly, Not cute Or Perfect. The thought of me getting hurt does not bring tears to his eyes. He would not die if I died, He is not an Edward. And I am not a Bella. We are real. Our love is real. And that, Is more important, and genuine Than idealistic, impossible fantasies. Screw Edward.
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