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Notes on my phone

By Bella MariePublished 5 months ago 1 min read
Photo by Bernard on Unsplash

Sometimes I imagine that you walk into my room. You walk in like it’s your room. I should be telling you to get out but every part of me knows that you’ve always been welcome here. So I let you in. And I let you sit on my bed. You can sit closer but you won’t get too close. Are you scared? Are you worried? I’ve missed you.

heartbreaksad poetry

About the Creator

Bella Marie

15 years old. I write occasionally.

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