To have such a heart that only needs promises,
never to come to life.
Just words, soft and sweet, a dream tale.
To turn all
into a walk on the clouds, with the pinks of a sunset.
To find out that the
clouds can’t sustain any life
And rain yourself
down.
Falling,
panicking.
Ending in a
bloody mess.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario