Maybe Language Is Kind, Giving Us These

The Boy I Loved Didn't Know I Existed. Then Again, He Was Obsessed With Camus, So He Didn't Know If Any Of Us Existed.

I Wake Up Feverish, Sore, Uncomfortable. Is It Sickness Or Is It Heartbreak? I Can't Tell. The Thermometer Says I'm Normal, But I'm Clearly Not.

Sometimes When You Hit Send, You Can Imagine The Message Going Straight Into The Person's Heart. But Other Times, Like This Time, It Feels Like The Words Are Merely Falling Into A Well.

I Can Flirt With The Best Of Them, But Only When It Doesn't Matter.

People Say That Time Slips Through Our Fingers Like Sand. What They Don't Acknowledge Is That Some Of The Sand Sticks To The Skin. These Are Memories That Will Remain, Memories Of The Time When There Was Still Time Left.