my birthday.
it's supposed to be the day i celebrate my birth.
with love and presents; a huge party, all my friends.
but one thing was missing, you.
you promised me that you would wish me a 'happy
birthday', a phrase that meant more to me than it
should have. i waited for your text, checking my
phone every hour, or second.
i waited till midnight, praying that you would text
me only two simple words.
it's just two words.
how fucking hard is that.
apparently very hard, because when i woke up with
a hang over i check my phone and guess what—
surprise, no text.
—thiwa.
YOU ARE READING
impulsive love
Poetrywe didn't give a shit about what we had done; we just cared about being with each other. || amazing cover by @nostalgiic- ||
