z e r o

21 4 1
                                    

I want to write a book, but i don't know what to write. This statement may seem simple, obvious or even ridiculous, but that's how it is. No sir, or lady, or human being; i'm not trying to get your attention, i'm trying to write a book.

But then I ask myself, why do I want to write so bad? Is it to forget about past traumas? To remember them? Is it for the fame? The money? The oportunity of seeming interesting?

No, it's because my therapist told me to try this. And this is not a book, and i'm not a writter.

I'm sad.

I'm doing this because i'm trying to forget

how his fingers felt

when he caressed my hair

and told me i was pretty.






what a liar.







but then, i'm just missing him, and his lies



please come back.

-jjk


consumed||kth;jjkWhere stories live. Discover now