Speaking of flying, Reminds me of her smile that is very semetrical to butterfly wings, Eyes are always filled with lakes containing comparing to all the love in the world, Out lived the shells, where she grown her wings, Unimportantly juggle her outlined limits crossed over by passing all the sadness, Dream makes her world…
Featured
I don’t want to be Sad
I don’t want to be sad, but it always finds the edge of my cover and pull it off, making me vulnerable. I hide every inch of my feelings from it, buried in secret, neither to be found nor to be discovered. Am I too rude to accept it or too weak to deny it?…
You must be logged in to post a comment.