The moment I saw you some clichés struck my mind

the ambiguity of your scent, sent me somewhere, somewhere I have never been.

you became that one unoriginal love song in my head.

your hand brushing my arm is all I could care for.

I hate that ‘you are not that important’ stare you had there outside that door for me.

your unexpected coldness, without a sign, still keeps me tirelessly warm at night.

I guess I'll be just one of those Instagram pics in your archives.