"How are things with her?"
I don't know.
I think about her everyday.
E v e r y . D a y .
She's exactly like I remember.
"Do you miss her?"
Do I miss her?
I'm not sure.
I want to talk to her,
but I also NEVER want to hear from
her again.
I talked to her today.
Why were my hands so shaky?
And my heart, it was beating so
fast?
Why was today so
d i f f e r e n t ?
"How do you feel about all of it?"
I need a cigarette.
YOU ARE READING
warm honey ▸ poetry
Poésie❛ LITERATURE: CLEVER LIES WHICH SECRETLY SAY THE TRUTH. ❜ ⠀⠀⠀⠀Copyright © 2016, slythrns
