your eyelashes showed interest,
your lips showed courage, with a little bit of lust outlining the curve. they've always been distrustful. but nothing was more dishonest than the snow that frosted and layed on the trees, each branch looking like a frozen chocolate Popsicle.
(the branches were dismembered fingers that always reached for something. love, hope, I don't know.
they cracked and crumbled, to their death, to the ground, whatever in reach falling with them.)
I loved talking to you. you didn't think like me, which was good. you gave a reason to your point of view, always (which was quite annoying in some ways and some adorably lovely in others.) having to say your opinion.
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
your eyelashes showed interest,
your lips showed courage, with a little bit of lust outlining the curve. they've always been distrustful. but nothing was more dishonest than the snow that frosted and layed on the trees, each branch looking like a frozen chocolate Popsicle.
(the branches were dismembered fingers that always reached for something. love, hope, I don't know.
they cracked and crumbled, to their death, to the ground, whatever in reach falling with them.)
I loved talking to you. you didn't think like me, which was good. you gave a reason to your point of view, always (which was quite annoying in some ways and some adorably lovely in others.) having to say your opinion.
unfinished. not knowing how to finish it because it makes no sense.
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