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i miss you i love you i want you but would i ever actually text you again? nah no way i’d rather miss you forever than be the one to hit you up
maybe it was never about you it was the way everything felt new when you were around
the way i used to smile at your name before i even knew what you’d become to me
i wonder what i would be like if i never learned to overthink everything
i have a habit of making peace with things before they even happen
maybe i keep disappearing because i never liked being perceived
sometimes i wonder if i’m actually waiting for something or just refusing to accept that it’s already over
Why does this always happen to me WHY ME
i wonder if silence has its own way of remembering
some thoughts feel borrowed from a life i’ve never lived
i find it strange that every ordinary day becomes history without asking
perhaps nothing is random and nothing is meant to be understood
sometimes i look at the sky like it’s waiting for me to remember something
what if the things we forget are still happening somewhere in another version of us
i think every room keeps a little piece of everyone who ever stood inside it
maybe reality is just a habit we’ve all agreed to believe in