These are the days
on which time
slows down,
and the sunshine
cant cure
all ills.
And the air's frigid breeze
chills your mind,
and the birds
chirping
remind you of the way
that she speaks.
But the only thing
that eases the pain
is those
perfect
brown
eyes
and the way
she says
your name,
but those things are gone.
Theyre gone and theyre
not
coming
back.
Shes never coming back.
Never.
Never.
Never.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 6:01 AM UTC
These are the days
on which time
slows down,
and the sunshine
cant cure
all ills.
And the air's frigid breeze
chills your mind,
and the birds
chirping
remind you of the way
that she speaks.
But the only thing
that eases the pain
is those
perfect
brown
eyes
and the way
she says
your name,
but those things are gone.
Theyre gone and theyre
not
coming
back.
Shes never coming back.
Never.
Never.
Never.
