Sometimes at night, when it's the rainy season of spring, I feel like I will wander forever. As though I will never be anyone's favorite smell, or favorite flower.
Almost as if I'm stuck in a time I don't belong, maybe even reality. I'm aching for something I couldn't explain. Longing for a place I couldn't accurately describe, that resides so deeply in my soul, I can feel myself expiring without it. Draining.
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 6:24 AM UTC
Sometimes at night, when it's the rainy season of spring, I feel like I will wander forever. As though I will never be anyone's favorite smell, or favorite flower.
Almost as if I'm stuck in a time I don't belong, maybe even reality. I'm aching for something I couldn't explain. Longing for a place I couldn't accurately describe, that resides so deeply in my soul, I can feel myself expiring without it. Draining.
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