I still think about you a lot but not in the heartbreaking, head turning, bed tossing, aching kind of way. It's more of an acceptance, a closure - where we happened and it was real for a moment. And now we no longer are. Flowers don't keep growing. They wither and petals fall, and new ones take their place. Same flower bed, new flowers.
YOU ARE READING
Meaningless:: a collection
PoetryI've made this for you for when you're lost and alone when you're sinking like a stone use these words, these pieces of broken soul, to heal your own. - this is strictly for awareness, I do not encourage anyone to do the following and if you stru...
