Red.
And I hope it fucking hurts.
I hope that everytime you see a golden sunset, it reminds you of how happy they made me.
Hope that everytime you walk into your apartment, you see the plants that I bought you.
That when you listen to your playlist, you think of the love we shared for music.
When you bring my name up in a conversation, I want your chest to feel tight.
You think about how I made you laugh, and I hope that what you did to me has silenced you.
Think of my scent all over your kitchen, couch, your bed.
Of course you miss me.
Me. The girl you said you could not even imagine of causing pain to.
I hope it fucking hurts.












