“Can we try again” her voice echoes through my mind, as if I was a painting of old, plastered on the walls of a collapsed cave(mind), her voice…still as angelic as ever, it bounced right off me, but the sound travels deep so I know just as she did, it’ll make its way back to me. At the eyes, the Tory gates guard the unkept shrin of her heart and mind. I wonder if she hates me, she plays a lot of games in a way that is truly commendable honestly, she wants me to work but I’m tired and my longing for her presents does not allow rest. The inability to permeate through, invokes my inability to call upon the real her, the windows to her soul, closed. When will they open again? The last Keep left her garden in shambles so I stand outside waiting, patiently…for her to open up and I’ll do my best to heal her.
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Circa : The Entries
عاطفيةA very metaphorical & descriptive (aswell as narrative, as it may seem to be diary entries) short story about the journey of a boy and a girl falling in and out of love. The ups and downs of how everything went from his perspective. Written througho...
