I look up to the sky, and all I think about is you.
It pains me when I see your name on my notifications
or the photos I have of you on my Flickr
or the photo pinned to my dresser
or the notes you left in a tin of mint
or the broken promise of a Bee Movie critique
or the wedding in a small chapel in the boonies
or the names we’ve made for our four [sic] kids
or the thoughts—
these ideas of a life together.
Because it was you who broke my heart.
It was you who left.
Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
I look up to the sky, and all I think about is you.
It pains me when I see your name on my notifications
or the photos I have of you on my Flickr
or the photo pinned to my dresser
or the notes you left in a tin of mint
or the broken promise of a Bee Movie critique
or the wedding in a small chapel in the boonies
or the names we’ve made for our four [sic] kids
or the thoughts—
these ideas of a life together.
Because it was you who broke my heart.
It was you who left.
