🩹 five

410 27 0
                                    

you're gone, then back at my door.

it was late, too late. you were at
my door, in the pouring rain, tears
streaming down your face. it was
a rare sight, and it wouldn't be
the last time i saw it. you looked
at me with such sorrow in your
eyes, the small part of me that
still loved you just submitted to
you. i let you walk all over me
when i let you back into my house.
and i hated myself for it.




THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS ✔️Where stories live. Discover now