the past is my favorite pastime

i miss those cold nights, the nights in your car; yes it was cold but you were so damn warm.  or did the heat radiate from my flushed cheeks; i’ll never know.  i miss the feeling of my heart pounding amid my shortened breaths, trying to free itself from the cage that is my chest, aching to be seen wholly, completely.  i’ll always wonder what would have happened if you had seen my heart, if you had seen me.

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