Do you still think about us, or has there been too many for you to count?
Whenever you think of us, do you see the filth in me, or the goodness I tried my best to give?
When you hold her hand and thread through her hair, have you ever thought: it could've been you?
Time passes but I'll remember
though not everything.
I tried my best to recall the care you tried to give, the efforts you tried to make.
Yet whenever I look back, I only see a void. Watered with my tears, heavy from my-or perhaps our burdens.
Did you truly try to bring out the best of us, or were you cultivating my youth and life to fill the holes and pores she gave you?
It's ironic, how you already started a new chapter and I'm still here, struggling to put a full stop — it never felt complete.
I know it was sudden and I know you expected it.
So why couldn’t you’ve just reached out before it was too late?
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ns216.73.217.39da2
and then Add to home screen.