I kissed him, but I was kissing you. I held hands with him, but I was feeling your warm hands. I pet his curly hair, but I wasn't seeing his ginger hair, I was seeing your black ashy hair. I was texting him back, but I wish I was texting you.
But you don't reply. You don't care a shit about me. You left your kiss on my lips, and just disappeared. You have to take responsibility of that, because my mind is sick of thinking about you.
And now, his mind is sick of thinking about me. Because I'm doing what you've done to me.
