it's one fifty-four in the morning and all i can do is write about you.
what the hell is that about?
i still miss you.
i still haven't reached that place where i can think of you and feel nothing.
i hope you're doing well.
i hope you think of me.
please think of me.
i hope it was hard for you—leaving me.
why should i have to suffer if you're not?
it's not fair that i have to be stuck here crying when you probably never shed a tear.
i hope it hits you all at once,
what you lost.
i'll get better one day.
i know i will.
i can't wait for then.
when i'll be able to see you and not hurt.
i can't wait for one fifty-four in the morning and i'm okay.
YOU ARE READING
Behind My Eyes.
Poetrycome pick my mind and stay awhile, make yourself comfortable. it's awfully lonely in here. - inside this book, you'll find five distinct parts: simply me, which tells you almost everything you need to know about me. you, which tells you...
