These voice messages have been deleted (again)
Today is six, yesterday was nine,
Tomorrow will be three; on average, it's five.
I used to love it, I really did,
I was always interested in what you hid.
Perhaps it's you who didn't know how
Would you even say all of that, now
You erased all that's left
Of yourself,
So that I can have one less thing
On my shelf.
That's not fair.
How could you even dare
To assume that I don't care?
I started longing for your books.
I never knew why you took them,
Why you made them into tools,
Into something you could use against me;
To make me feel bad for not making a plea
To you and your heart;
For not wanting to part.
I don't think I need to fill that emptiness,
For now, I just miss us, being friends.