This is the sequel of Heartbreak Weather.
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❝ some days, i feel nothing at all.
and some days, i feel everything.
honestly, i don't know what's worse :
drowning beneath the waves ;
or dying from the thirst? ❞
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Not al...
I thought writing poems for each other was our thing.
Guess it's not, anymore. I found Eli gushing over the little poem you wrote for him today. Apparently, this is the second time you've written one for him.
You know, I miss your words. I miss the smoothness with which the words would fall from my tongue when I read your poems to myself.
Where did everything go so wrong?
I desperately needed a change, and so a change is what I got. I colored my hair red. I know you noticed it, because the next time you passed by me, you accidentally dropped a note. You said you loathed someone with every fiber of your being, and then compared their hair to the warm, tumbling rusty waters of a river during a sienna sunset. I went home, and pasted the note to the wall over my bedpost.
You didn't interact with me in any way after that. Yesterday, I saw you laughing hard at something Eli said.
I am jealous of Eli for making you laugh like that. I still want to be the only one who makes you laugh like that — so hard that you throw your head back like a little kid, your laughs so loud that they reverberate through the halls. I still want to be the only one who you write poems for.
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