dearest, m.
if you're reading this,
you might be wondering;
"why does this bastard calls me 'm' if he knows my name?".
well, m,
saying your name hurts,
writing it, too.
so it's better for me to write your initial.
i miss you.
it feels like you don't know me anymore.
like you forgot about me.
like i don't exist.
i hate you.
–aaron.
YOU ARE READING
labirinthine
Poetry❝you and your nebulous lies, it's sempiternal.❞ [poetic-ish letters.] #660 in poetry
