you cry out into the
stars
but they never listen
to you
they never listen
you feel her teardrops on you shoulder like a
cold summer
rain
but she never listens
to your comforting
words
what would you do if those turquoise glass orbs had not met yours on a
humid
july
afternoon
you would not
exist
yet again
Apr 6, 2018
Apr 6, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
you cry out into the
stars
but they never listen
to you
they never listen
you feel her teardrops on you shoulder like a
cold summer
rain
but she never listens
to your comforting
words
what would you do if those turquoise glass orbs had not met yours on a
humid
july
afternoon
you would not
exist
yet again
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