to begin with...
I am not a saint.
I am a helpless romantic
a girl who loves too hard
too much
too freely.
so when the sun loses its yellow tint and the luminosity declines, the house becomes empty and the stars they shine. They reject my guilt. But the silence of my empty house is penance enough.
I am not a saint.
I always remain as helpless as I am naive
I am just a teenage girl
