It's twelve 27 and I won't sleep, I've cleaned my room tried on almost all my clothes talked to my brothers and played games on my phone. But I'm running out of ways to run from him

Why did my brain have to memorize the smile the voice the laugh the eyes and most painfully, the way he said goodbye. The tone Wich almost sounded sorry, the eyes that held what looked like pity the way he bent to talk to me. The way he said goodbye

I cannot clos my eyes for when I do I know he'll be there and I will feel the pain again. He enters my dreams as if only to torture me.
But the real torture is to notice how detailed I remember him.
The scar just below his wrist, the hair and it's corse softness, the way his eyes turn down at the edges, and the way he made me feel
I would do it all again if I could. To feel like I did once more, with your lips pressed softly against mine and my mind filled with bliss