"Tell me something nice."
"Sunsets. Rain on a tin roof. Hot Chocolate and warm socks."
"No. Tell me something nice that I can hold onto. Something that will last."
I pause.
He stares at me with knowing eyes.
Knowing eyes because we both are aware that his words are a trap that he is wanting me to be caught in.
"I can't," I whisper.
He gives me one of those heartbreaking smiles.
"I thought so."
YOU ARE READING
Where is the Sun?
Poetry☼ I wished upon a star but realized it was night. The sun that I had wished upon, had left me forever blind☼ ► sporadic updates ► poetry book ► thank you for reading ©world_joy_ Cover by @daisybrowser
