as autumn peaks through the summer strings,i find you again in places where you aren't there.
maybe because autumn is my favourite season, much like you were my favourite person,
or maybe because of the soft honey sky, much like your eyes.
YOU ARE READING
crimson
Poesía'here a seventeen year old with such a hurricane of emotions talks and rambles about her musings, and writes about lovers she hasn't met and heartbreaks she hasn't yet experienced,as well as others in its rawest state with the hopes that they may b...
