Neither one of us want to say goodbye
Now, I'll be looking you in the eye.
Narrow rivers of red trickle down my arm
Only tears stream down our faces, the knife digging deeper.
Oh, shrouded in grief we became.
Only a minute for us to breathe.
_And time resumes, cloaked once again from perception._
Jun 13, 2020
Jun 13, 2020 at 2:55 PM UTC
Neither one of us want to say goodbye
Now, I'll be looking you in the eye.
Narrow rivers of red trickle down my arm
Only tears stream down our faces, the knife digging deeper.
Oh, shrouded in grief we became.
Only a minute for us to breathe.
_And time resumes, cloaked once again from perception._
Is this loss?
10th of February, 2018.
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