act IX

112 9 3
                                        

you're my forthcoming winter,
girl with the blue hair.
the despair is slowly killing me,
come to me I dare.

you create a garden inside my head
with the sunset eyes that darken under the moonlight.
the blue haired girl who laughs under her breath,
the wind now speaks her name.

tribute to my mindStories to obsess over. Discover now