It hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts.
I don't think it will ever stop hurting.
And I have this idea in my head that after a week you'll text me.
Asking for me back.
Because you miss me.
But as the days keep going I realize what a sick thought that is.
You'll never want me back.
You'll never hold me again.
You'll never love me again.
And it all just hurts.
YOU ARE READING
dear ryan
Jugendliteratura collection of letters, poems, and rants, to the boy I love, the boy who broke my heart
