I like you in a way that makes me want to write poetry And you like me in a way that mean… absolutely nothing.
I think I liked you better when you were a fantasy because now you’re close enough to touch and I’m afraid
Tell me again, so I can hear your voice. Hold me again, so I can feel your touch. My life remains
I hate that I like all the music you told me to listen to. I hate that you noticed when I changed my hair. I hate that you check up on me
its only been two days did i miss something? why is everyone running? i think i missed training i didnt know this was a race