From the corner of the room

Why don't you talk to me?

Was that a lie, when you said you like me? Or perhaps you do not even like me, in an enough way that make you willing to start a conversation with me. I've been waiting all day, looking at my cell-phone in a foolish hope that it would bring a message from you.

My head hurt.
My heart ached.
i cannot breathe.

Come.
Please come.
And stay close.

I promise.
If you do that for me, I'll give you anything. 
I will let you do everything; it doesn't matter anymore.

i just want to feel loved.

z. d. imama