dedication: @perfectiion
➵
I have your number,
or,
I did.
I called,
and called,
and called.
but it never worked.
did you change the number?
was it fake?
did you just not care?
i'm here,
alone,
on my floor,
staring at the celling,
wondering.
did you even like me?
or,
was I a quick fuck?
okay,
so maybe not a,
'fuck',
perse,
more of,
'fucks'.
I hope,
and I pray,
that I will see,
your face again,
blue hair.
i'm thinking,
why call you that,
so from now,
to show,
that i'm trying to move on,
i'm going to call you,
michael.
so,
michael,
where are you?
i'm bleeding.
litteraly,
my nose is bleeding,
i've got tissues now,
so it's stopped,
but my wrists,
they crave to bleed,
along.
to not feel left out,
to feel the pain.
my heart,
it feels,
like its never felt before.
it craves,
for your love.
but I need,
to move on.
but how do I do that?
➵
should michael come back, or should luke move on? that is the question... michael should come back is the answer.
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YOU ARE READING
Intoxicated » Muke ✓
Short Story❝Your kisses are intoxicating and I want to be drunk, hammered, smashed, stumbling on the floor in love.❞ two boys met in a club and had sex, this is the journey of finding each other again completed, poem form [ cover by me ]
