𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒹ℯ𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉ℯ，𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇，𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉ℯ𝒶𝓇𝒻𝓊𝓁 （𝒶 𝒸ℴ𝓁𝓁ℯ𝒸𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃 ℴ𝒻 𝓅ℴℯ𝓉𝓇𝓎)

𝓊𝓈．

i lay here in bed
my chest heavy in ache
silence ringing in the sheets
my phone reading 1:46:37
the call may seem long
but the reality is
there hasn't been a conversation
only the distant typing of his thumbs
my sniffling echoes
the wall built between the two of us
those salty rivers become familiar again.
i miss him.
i miss us.