FicWad

What do I do all day you ask?

I type.
It’s how I escape.

I write.
It’s how I come back.

I draw.
I draw things that I see.

I type about you.
I write about you.
I draw you.

I draw your green eyes with flecks of brown.
Your red and black hair.
Your smiles are tricky but I have mastered them.

I have mastered you.

But I’m not your master.

You just don’t understand.

You probably never will.

This is the last time you see me.

I can’t watch you all day and not be able hole you.

I’m sorry. I won’t return. I’ll probably live in another part of Jersey. Bye Frankie.