3am.
I stare at the ceiling and I think about you. I wonder to myself if you're thinking about me. If some part of you misses me, if you wonder why we just stopped seeing each other, if you want to see me again. I dismiss the thought, knowing full aware that you are not thinking about me or anything that concerns me. You don't miss me, you don't wonder and you don't care. You just don't have the same feelings and thoughts as I do
YOU ARE READING
3am
Poetry3am. My heart is screaming out your name. It hurts so bad and I am still so in love with you. "What do I do?" my heart cries. "Express the pain" my mind says.
