How should I tell you how I feel when I myself do not know. These emotions — it's like my chest is so empty yet so full at the same time. It's cramped with things I cannot explain. It hurts, oh Lord it hurts. It hurts every time I heave a long sigh, because there's a numbness that coats my fingertips and I want to feel. It hurts every time I cry into the silence because I'm pouring out myself until there is nothing left. Really, there is nothing left.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Starry night skies (completed)
PoesíaUnder the canopy of a thousand stars, she found that her hands sang the words of her tender heart, the notes captured perfectly in pages that were stained a deep brown. cocooned in the embrace of a hundred constellations, ...
