it's always these feelings that i keep hiding.
even if i let my midnight smokes away and let it touch their clothes,
still, nobody will understand.
will the moonlight be there if i ever leave this place?
will the stars let them fall their signs for me just not to be in a place called nowhere?
will i be okay like the way i used to be?
it's always these feelings that i keep hiding...
YOU ARE READING
My Dream Wisteria: Prose and Poetry
Poetrywe learn and grow, we were born to die. so i'll take this moment to write, as the wisteria grow inside.
