Honey, It’s Not Okay

You think it’s okay as long as he comes back. As if it compensates on all the sleepless nights spent waiting for him to tiptoe his way back and calm the restlessness constantly humming in your chest. As if this is comparable to the longing of the moon for the sea, that this persistent chasing but still slipping away from your fingers can be called beautiful.
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Honey, It’s Not Okay

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