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#poemsadnessalone
on the brink of night waiting, eyes open. nothing in me is still but nothing outside moves hours of staring at lightless window wasting time thinking about the wrong person. A glimpse of the moon parted by leaves outside my window reminds me of how alone I am. Always the one standing at the passageway under the busy road wasting time thinking about the wrong person, I.
0
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
fudz-lana
I.
on the brink of night waiting, eyes open. nothing in me is still but nothing outside moves hours of staring at lightless window wasting time thinking about the wrong person. A glimpse of the moon parted by leaves outside my window reminds me of how alone I am. Always the one standing at the passageway under the busy road wasting time thinking about the wrong person, I.
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