24/7
Don't call me.
Don't call me at ten.
TEN PM
Is when the conflict between my heart and mind begins.
To accept the call or not,
to be stupid enough to do this over or not,
to push my beaten up heart out of its safety and into your reckless hands like a fish you caught.
ELEVEN PM
You want me.
You ask to come over,
you ask to leave town with me,
you ask for us.
Again.
Us, together again.
Sometimes I don't know which is worse in a breakup; the concept or the person trying to make up when my mind was made up.
Here's the thing about us.
There are 24 hours in the day and two hours of your act is all it takes to make me say;
so, I miss you. you were right.
— let's keep in mind, that's what YOU said.
TWELVE AM
Good morning!
It is a new day.
The tears have been wiped away,
the phone call was somewhat yesterday,
and you text me saying: "thanks again."
— reminding me, oh yes.
The end.
That's what I will never comprehend.
How you made me feel like my feelings were ahead.
SEVEN AM
message read
So, please don't call me at ten.
Let's remain friends and stop using ".. and then.."
I'm sick of our story.
And I know you're not sorry.
YOU ARE READING
the sad story gallery
General Fictionthose who know me would have seen this coming. to those who don't know me, hello. i'm kinda really into sad stories and endings. so don't expect too many happy moments. i have yet to await a change of heart. until then.. this "book" will contain l...
