I have lost my words again but it is
so much more than this.
It is a promise that I am loosing myself, that my
hands are loosing grip on the moon I've created and my
soul getting caught up in the silver raindrops on the windowpane
Flowing slowly, and then faster as if they
wanted to teach me that nothing lasts forever
no matter how much we need it to
YOU ARE READING
you could call it poetry
Poetrypoetry I. just a small collection of poetry, thoughts, excerpts and playlists... they get better after a while ☆ please do not forget to vote if you like it ☆ please do not steal
