i know you hate me
hell, i think it's mutual now.
but some small part of me,
some puny,
weak,
futile,
desperate
part of the person i am now
still misses the touch of your lips.
i can't help but feel the same way i did
when you kissed me for the first time.
i miss it and yet,
i don't think
i miss you
at all.
YOU ARE READING
web diary
Non-Fictionprolly not daily updates but still warning will contain mentions of Su!c!d3, s3|f h4rm, and other things relating to mental health
