There are no good days, only bad ones that you forget to whisper in your sleep. There is no love, only fondness of those who hold the secrets that you keep. And you will never tell yourself that there is nothing left inside you, because like me you may also ask... For what purpose is the moon, when the stars fill the sky too?
YOU ARE READING
Every Tear
PoetryStaring at these blank pages my mind is empty, the words won't bleed from my fingertips, for they only know my eyes.
