I’m here,
Waiting in the darkest spot of my life,
In front of your door,
Waiting for you,
To come out,
And see me,
Or see the parts of me,
On that empty floor,
Or shall I say, what’s left of me ..
Do you think this is easy?
Thinking and writing about you every single
day?
Can’t even describe how it feels,
Wondering how I survived till this day,
But I don’t think I have much time left..
No comments:
Post a Comment