i miss the feeling;
of your breath on my neck,
of your hand on my cheek,
of your smile on my lips,
of us.
YOU ARE READING
the coldness inside
Randomsometimes, when the night is cold, the moon is sad, and the wind sings its hollow tune, i think of you. a book of lonely thoughts.
eighteen
i miss the feeling;
of your breath on my neck,
of your hand on my cheek,
of your smile on my lips,
of us.
