I dreamt about him… but it was different somehow. The outline of him blurred like I just barely remembered who he was. Even though his fingers still fit perfectly between mine, the colors of his skin were smudged. Freckles weren’t the stars I used to wish on. His eyes were dull. When I ran my hands through his hair, I felt no spark; as if each of my extremities had gone numb.
— i wonder if you know about the birthmark on my back /// oatmealio