Red Silent
I used to enjoy writing, until it became an insecurity. Just another thing I was imperfect at.
Red Silent
I used to enjoy writing, until it became an insecurity. Just another thing I was imperfect at.
I used to enjoy writing, until it became an insecurity. Just another thing I was imperfect at.
I used to enjoy writing, until it became an insecurity. Just another thing I was imperfect at.
I stop
They dance in the street
He can’t take his eyes off her
Sucked in by her presence
Could someone ever look at me that way?
Tears
A shattered mirror of reflection
I continue my stroll
The sound of their footsteps fade
Out of sight and out of mind
For nothing is more lonely
Than watching others fall in love…...