the thought of you makes me cry
although you may have not hurt me
I can still miss you
Because all I can do is sleep
To discard the idea of you
The idea that you're still here
But you're gone
And you're not coming back
YOU ARE READING
FOG
Poesía"this won't hurt one bit" they said to me as they ripped my heart out. My mind holds a lot of secrets that not a soul knows. These are my secrets.
