You walk toward me, and the room blurs. God, you still look like everything I ever wanted. My heart stutters—like it doesn’t know how to beat without you. I should have something ready, something smart. But all I manage is, “Hey.” Just that. Soft, shaky. Like the first word of a prayer. You look at me, and I see the war behind your eyes. I want to say I’m still yours. Instead, I ask, “How’ve you been?” But what I mean is: Did you miss me? Do I still live somewhere in you?
Comments
0No comments yet.