Everyones awake and I've started noticing the gap in the curtain again.
The sounds in the house seem colder, more amplified than usual.
I wonder if he is a awake too, or if it's just us laying in his bed again.
I hate the obvious metaphor,
unmade
and
wrinkled.
YOU ARE READING
Limeade
PoetryThis book is a mixture of short stories/bad poetry thats hopefully relatable but circumstantial I hope you enjoy it, if not, that's okay.
