I once love writing poem that speaks of hate and pain but when I met you I stopped, you gave my world beautiful color but then you left, broke my heart. That’s why here I am writing again.
Someone asked me:
“If you’ll see him again, what will you ask then?”
A casual “How are you” I badly want to know how he is after we seperate ways. I want to know if he’s doing fine while I’m dying alone every time my pen touches the sheets.