I just want you to shush me with a kiss and tell me that I'm being irrational; that you're not going anywhere, that we haven't lost all that we might have been.
Instead, you don't even text me back.
You are my moon.
I am barely an asteroid to you.
YOU ARE READING
Desolate Moon (SS 2)
Puisimore exhibitionism, more emotional outbursts, more uncomfortably uncut honesty. TRIGGER WARNING.
