Its winter, and the tears seem to be stuck in the corner of my eye, slowly transitioning to room temperature.
You look like a geolocation, i smirk as a msg notification pops up on my screen. So close, but so far.
“We’re not addicted to texting, we’re addicted to the person that we’re texting”
You are like a million surprises. i am trying so hard… to leave, but you’re the gravitational constant that pulls me in, and under the current of life that drowns us, repeatedly.
What is the Geolocation of Home?