And I'm just floating.
Little distractions to stop the despair.
I have to continue moving in order to not think.
But it's hard to do so when you have no motivation to leave bed.
I wish you knew how I felt.
I wish you knew I don't feel alive.
YOU ARE READING
dear ryan
أدب المراهقينa collection of letters, poems, and rants, to the boy I love, the boy who broke my heart
