Bittersweet Drops

A slight continuation from Hollowed, the heartless narrator finds the breakup nostalgic for some odd reason. Cover:

I wouldn’t miss you

I won’t miss you

That’s what I whispered, like magic incantations, to myself

I can’t miss someone I didn’t love

But your voice it’s breaking, it’s soft

Your voice, it’s saying, “please don’t leave”

I have to hold back from touching your face, to say “it’s okay”

I can’t look you in the eyes

I feel you

I see you

I hear you

You’re every ghost from the poems I’ve read about

Your eyes are in every green sweater, every blade of grass

You’re everywhere

I don’t even love you

That’s the saddest part