"See I told you I'd see you again." He gives me a benevolent simper.
"Hi. "
"The camp wasn't the last of us. We prevailed." He holds my hands as I look up at him.
"But you already moved on. We met in the same location we first met at. When we're both here, the memories prevail and become exuberant again." I respond leaving him; knowing...
He'd be fine without me.
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Love // Thought
PoetryPoems about unrequited love, melancholia, and thoughts day-to-day (Updated randomly)
