Wednesday, 1 July 2015

Gathering Dust, Starting To Rust, Waiting To Go Bust

She gets claustrophobic so I put my love in a box. Tucked it under the bed and told her, "It's there for you whenever you want." But I think she deliberately forgot. And now it's starting to rot.

I remember when the smell of her, the taste of her would tie my stomach up into the prettiest, most delightful of knots. But now the mere sight of her is enough to make my heart sink and my smile drop. It's not that I don't want to see her anymore. I do. A lot. It's just that I want her to feel the same and alas, she does not.

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