*on my deathbed*
nurse: do you have any last words
me: i………..regret……being so……m…..mean………and heartless…………….
*the light goes out of my eyes*
*a small piece of paper falls out of my hand*
*the paper says one word only*
So in English class we had to draw a scene from The Great Gatsby. After the drawings were done the teacher was showing them to the class, and one drawing was a pic of Gatsby reaching towards at the green light, but in the drawing Gatsby didn’t have hands. So my teacher starts saying something like how this picture has hidden meaning and portrays the helplessness Gatsby feels, and the kid next to me just casually says “I can’t draw hands.”
It’s 3.47am and I miss you just like I did last week at 2.15 in the afternoon when I remembered the last time you told me you wanted me and you meant it. It’s 3.47am and I should be sleeping but all I can think about is how you used to smile when I told you you were beautiful and the way you held me tight and said you would never let me go but I guess things change and people move on and now you’re sleeping and I’m lying awake thinking about you.