I don't like the questions "How do you feel?" "How's it going in school?" and "Do you wanna talk about it?" And I'm trying to forget you and I know that I will, in a thousand years, or maybe a week. Burn all your pictures, and cut out your face. The shutters are down and the curtains are closed. Trying to forget even your name and the way that you look when you're sleeping, dreaming of this.
