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…