It is truly a shame sitting here thinking: I've lost all the love I had for you. What once I deemed everlasting and euphoric, is now burning down into ashes. I hate to believe I can still offer you affection when I am fully aware that's not the case— at least not any longer. I am writing this as a confirmation that my love's gone obsolete. And I'll definitely regret this when the loneliness comes knocking on my door, but I can bear lonely nights however I'm not so sure about the doubtful daytimes, which our connection brings me.
YOU ARE READING
Skyless constellations
Poesíaa compilation of anything; the things that my mind and pen nudges me to put into paper. read if you have time to spare
