Another

Your shoes were logo-ed.
You had 20-20, you said you had 20-19. You looked hot in glasses so she never complained.
 
She sat at a computer, she cleaned each key on the keyboard individually, she wrote this. She didn't think much of it, couldn't quite understand why she wasn't outside enjoying the Sun but all thoughts were overflowing and all the questions in her head she had to answer herself.
 
'Hello,'
 
Knox said and I felt it.
 
The metaphors are home here because the reader can't have it simply. The page aches in me. I struggle to write and yet I desperately need to.
 
My nose twitches, involuntarily, when I am overemotional or lonely, both.
 
I need to water the plants. I need to sleep. I need to be held. What a fool I've been, I hate the idea of taking for granted every tiny thing you did because it amounted to such a massive something.
 
Jams in my pajamas.
I am out of here. This is a weak wave-length, journey safe.