Forgotten

I layed down at 5:45 am with tired eyes and confusion slapped across them. 

Stretching for my phone with empty intent of lies I still hope for hope. Hope that between her you'd

think of me and the things we made. The sounds of the old room screeching in agony to our sweet

song..but I'm reaching for my phone with discontent. I know you're enjoying her and releasing me

from thought. I hate being forgotten, tucked away behind the new shiny trophies.