I was never one to run toward
a shining soul off in the distance.
I felt.
Ceiling heavy creeping; my eyes followed the white.
I am not singular.
I am not singular.
The necessity of nature left me dreamy and hopeless. You were my
My amor phora.
And now I feel as if I have no soul worth clinging.
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
I was never one to run toward
a shining soul off in the distance.
I felt.
Ceiling heavy creeping; my eyes followed the white.
I am not singular.
I am not singular.
The necessity of nature left me dreamy and hopeless. You were my
My amor phora.
And now I feel as if I have no soul worth clinging.