I promised myself I'd go to bed hours ago. long nights spent wasted on your existence. the way you raised your arms over your head and stretched, the hem of your shirt lifting to see the outline of your toned stomach and the fragile lines along your hips. ****. I'm getting carried away again. see? this is what happens, this is what happens when you're in love. you're entire life revolves around them. you begin noticing the little things, like how he stares at you from across the room when he thinks you're not looking. or how he will purposely touch your thigh, he will barely graze it but it will set your mind on fire and later that night and 1am you will remember and the burning will never fade. this is what it's like to be in love. your body is marked with reminders of him, his tongue is poison and he will hurt you so badly. love is not bad, but his love is terrible. and I cannot do it, I cannot sit here and have him caress me when I know his love is fake. he does not care for me. one day he will forget about me and I will still be tangled up in him. this is not what love is. this is not what happiness is. the sun burns now. the moon is my only friend, late at night, after he leaves, the moon is the only one left. how long will this emptiness last?