it’s been more than a month, at least it feels that way. time has trudged by. stuck in the mud of loneliness and wonder. i wonder if you’ll still love me, when you get back. i wonder if you’ll still want me, when you leave again. i wonder if you’ll still need me, when you look at me.
i fake at being a writer. putting words on a page, in hopes of someday supporting you. i wonder if you’ll love me when i fail. i wonder if you’ll still want me, when i become another worn out, unread scribe. i wonder if you still need me, when the page is forever blank.
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