It’s nights like this, that I wonder where you are.
What city are you in?
How are you?
Are you ok?
Are you cold?
Are you tired of the view out of your window?
Did you sleep well?
Have you eaten today?
Did you drink enough water?
Did you cry today?
Your image has permeated itself into a part of my brain that can’t seem to collect dust. Because I open that image everyday and rehash the same pain all over again.
Why do I do this to myself?
I count the stars in the sky in hopes that it confuses my overacting brain to think about something else. When all I want do is spend my last paycheck and fly to wherever you are and hold you.
I try to shut the voice in my head up, but even that voice, misses you too.
Dec 16, 2017
Dec 16, 2017 at 1:52 AM UTC
It’s nights like this, that I wonder where you are.
What city are you in?
How are you?
Are you ok?
Are you cold?
Are you tired of the view out of your window?
Did you sleep well?
Have you eaten today?
Did you drink enough water?
Did you cry today?
Your image has permeated itself into a part of my brain that can’t seem to collect dust. Because I open that image everyday and rehash the same pain all over again.
Why do I do this to myself?
I count the stars in the sky in hopes that it confuses my overacting brain to think about something else. When all I want do is spend my last paycheck and fly to wherever you are and hold you.
I try to shut the voice in my head up, but even that voice, misses you too.
Impulse
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