Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
she was a tsunami. a calamity of emotions. a dull painting of repetitive sorrow. the empty, longing kind of sad. the type of sad that leaves when you find what you need but stays when things you're looking for don't exist. the type of sad while waiting for a phone call from a dead number. never going to happen but you hope harder and get sadder but eventually you're so vacant that, as your dreams fizzle at the will of realism, you're okay with spending the rest of your life in this hole. you're okay with wasting tears on fiction and magic, okay with walking the tightrope between here and there and wherever else. because one day you'll wake up and time will set you free. and maybe then you'll find what you're looking for.
