On Mondays I want to be with you, to fade away the sparkles of evil for the days to follow.
Cuddle with me at night and let us slowly lose ourselves.
Am I coward, April? Am I a coward, because of my inability to confess this all to you - to confess my feelings to you?
The countless thoughts that linger in my head make me think this won’t be right - okay.
It all may be true, and how I hope you read this.
My feelings might be gone, but this letter will surely exist, till the end of time. And may it find you, April, for this all I should’ve told you.