i wish people still wrote letters,
i wish we still penned down our thoughts,
so that your tear stains could guide me to your heart
and the coffee or wine stains to those sleepless nights
so that the scent of the sheet could tell me
what perfume was your new favourite
and your lazy handwriting showed how tired you were
theres so much more of you on paper,
and theres so much of you i miss.
the monthly mail. (message me, i want to make friends)