Wednesday
3.17 p.m.
I sit comfortably on the couch.
I watch the telly.
I read books.
I write poems.
About You.
I sketch.
You.
Why can't I forget about you?
I hate myself for thinking about you.
I hate myself for liking you.
I hate myself for missing you more than I should.
YOU ARE READING
Through Your Notes
Short Story"See you at midnight, then?" "See you at midnight, then."
