I message my other friend,
she has the same rage as me.
I can't breathe in the video but I can't type because I can't see.
"What do I do? How does she expect me to act like nothing ever happened? I have to pretend I'm not still in love with her? We're just roommates now."
We'd write on plates and then break them. It was good, for some time. Not very long.
She's been right from the beginning.
Someone get me the makeup.
Because I am a fucking clown.
YOU ARE READING
Her. (rough draft)
PoetryThis author has gone through the most brutal breakup she's ever endured, she needs an outlet. Enjoy
