It is somehow clarifying
To let something fall out of your life
And realize how little you needed it
How ironic that we don't talk
anymore
Our desert (haiku)
I look through photos Our life through the four seasons Back through the old ones. Blossoming in spring With all the diverse flowers ...
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There is ink in my pen And I'm pretty sure If I put it to the page It would come out, Creating some sort of mark On the blank pages. Of ...
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I press my bitten nails into my palms As she speaks, as to not betray The fact I am two milimeters From breaking down completely. I wis... -
The rain reminds me of Thought-ridden afternoons after school Where the sprinkler would be the sky And the street a river Carrying the l...