i have stories still to tell... they're of the healin' kind.
21.10.13 | 10:26 pm

these are empty actions. unfulfilling. good for a fleeting moment, then gone.

some feelings still hang around, stuck to me as i wait up or wake up to hear your voice.

i keep them down for the most part. i know, i've known for so long, nothing will come of this. they've faded, but they haven't gone away. not completely.

white noise in the background of my life.

these distractions fall into my lap, starting small like having someone hold my hand, which leads to the next thing and the next.

even these are things i wish you knew about me.

in two weeks you'll be in my house again and i know that when you leave, again, that entire next day i'll walk around empty.

i try so hard not to talk about any of it anymore because i know how ridiculous it is. but you're still the first person in the longest time i've wanted to know everything about me. and i still don't even know why.

our heat is broken and when i wake up in the morning it's miserably cold and all i want is someone to wake up beside, a real reason not to leave my bed.

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