scribble scrabble

and this isnt about you and im okey with it.

i hope its alright if i still smell you on
my pillow, its sort of like daydreaming
in clumsily sewn together sentences that
shouldnt make any sense.. so i wrote
about it.
your fingers caressed the back of my neck
as you zipped up my hoodie, its red flashing
in your eyes, lick them cold and start over.. so
i wrote about it.
i prefer your 2am texts that always wake me
up and maybe i should be nonchalant with
your kind but i really cant let you go without
a kiss.. so i wrote about it.
you are my disaster of hide and seek, your
triumphs show in your smile and sometimes
air around us is empty with jealousy, i know
you feel it, too.. so i wrote about it.
at least we stopped, right?