every time I move through this house, your hand slips from mine. I struggle to grip onto the person that i knew. now, I only see you as a silhouette. all the things I remember, and no longer the person that you are. I prefer not to know who you are now. because I would rather love your memory than love the person that you are now. i’ll miss you, but it is time to go. i’ll hold your memory close to me under the sheets tonight. I hope to see you in my dreams.
My high ass is feeling every damn word like if they were personally fkn touching me.
My heart is broken.






















