so winter is coming, and i'm no closer to forgetting today than I was yesterday
I'm drowning, just a bit...
pretending that I'm not sinking, lying that I'm not choking on salted waves of pain.
Dear John Doe, I'm growing exhausted just a bit more with each passing day, I'm growing tired of smiling when I hear people say your name.
I curse underneath my breath for even though my stretched lips and pretentious gleam say i'm okay.. say I'm happy like we haven't just parted ways
secretly, I believe that I will never see the day the thought of you doesn't make me feel as though my entire being has been ripped into two. yours truly, blue.