It was only at night, when she was in bed and the room was as dark as the shadows she hid in, that she let herself cry.
It was then that she would burrow under her blanket, lifting it to her face to catch the tears and soak them up as they fell. She had to catch her own tears; it wasn't like there was anyone who would do it for her.
She had so much love that she needed to give, and no one was there to capture her fluttering heart. She was so alone; so desperately alone, and waiting on someone who would find her and hold onto her like she was the only good thing left in their petty little world.
YOU ARE READING
Scintillation ✓
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry and prose about stars, love and the like. It is a glimpse inside my mind and a full view of my soul. My thoughts are like celestial dust: quite useless on their own, but once they come together, create a star that give...
