He called.
He actually called.
I was sitting in my room,
staring at my phone,
pondering whether or
not to answer his call.
I don't know what moved me to do so.
Maybe it was that tiny piece of hope in the back of my mind, telling me he cares.
Telling me he changed for the better.
Telling me that everything is going to be fine.
I answered.
I answered his call.
I was now, sitting in my room,
crying my eyes out, knowing I
shouldn't have answered his call.
I asked myself why I bothered to do so.
Because deep down I knew exactly that I would get disappointed again,
that I would be a mess again.
He will never care and he will never change.
Still, I just can't seem to let go of that tiny piece of hope that he will care someday.
C.
YOU ARE READING
Subconscious Mind
PoetryMaybe someday, our aching hearts will mend, and the bond that connects us for a lifetime, won't ever be broken. ••• Subconscious /sʌbˈkɒn(t)ʃəs/ of or concerning the part of the mind of which one is not fully aware but which influences one's actions...
