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DeaR,
Tonight, I looked into the bonfire as I stood on a beach, with the wind blowing through my hair and the calmness of the sea making me melancholic. It brought along thoughts of you.
The fire, blazing like your persistent stubbornness, as hot as the sensation you put in my veins, stinging as the words you etch deep into every wound.
The breeze, colder than your eyes, how I imagine they'd glare at me, icy and bringing goosebumps prickling at my skin.
You occupy my mind just like the sand between my toes, the sand all around, everywhere.
And the sea, how we used to be.
SinCerely,
...
YOU ARE READING
To Be Continued...
Non-Fiction... Writing will not make the pain go away, but perhaps, the Gods will take pity on me. ...
