For every time you told me you were busy,
I'd pretend you didn't love me.
You were off doing your work and helping friends out,
While I'd distract myself from having any doubts.
I get drunk only to forget about the fact that I have a heart.
A heart that's so tired, and just wants some rest.
But it won't give me anything but heartache.
Silly me, you like me... but do you miss me?
Silly me, I don't like you....
But I miss you.
How can I be so sensitive, yet unemotional?
Are you truly honest or are your lies so professional?
YOU ARE READING
Breathers.
PoetryThese are just some of my random thoughts and you can also say that it's a collection for my other works, I hope that you find them enjoyable♡
