when he tells you you're nothing but a person to him, not a god, not anything special, it'll hurt.
maybe it'll be a stab in the chest, a knife twisted into your heart so deliciously you might just want more.
maybe it's a threat, a dose of something you don't want again, but:
at the end of the day, as you lay in bed, you'll have that imprint on you, and it will take time:
either minutes,
months,
even seconds.
we'll all find our closure.
key words:
goodnight
YOU ARE READING
the rant
Randomhate it till you make it... ----- where your author throws her unfinished drafts and rants.
