some days
my heart is still broken
and I miss your face
the way you laugh
the way our fingers fit together
when we held each other’s hands
some days
the pain still cuts so deep
and I find myself waiting for that answer
I will never receive
some days
it takes every inch of my being
not to send that text
not to ask how you are doing
not to ask
do you miss me?
a girl who writes 