Spotify keeps telling me that you listened to "Thought I Had Died", by The War.
I don't know if you really are listening to it, over and over again, and nothing else
Or if it's just an error, and I'm the only one of us feeding off of sad songs
Part of me hopes it's just a mistake. Wants you to be over me, enjoying your summer.
But the rest of me is far more selfish. It hopes you tear up at the sight of "no new messages"
I am that part. My own pain would be bearable, if only you were just as miserable.
But I know you're not.
YOU ARE READING
Untitled
PoetryA collection of thoughts, dreams, poems, short stories, hopes, fears, regrets, and whatever else comes to mind at 2am