Angel.
Angel.
Angel.
You are everything that keeps running through my mind. I wonder if people ever get tired of being in someone else's time for so long, living in their dreams and thoughts, like a prisoner who can't escape that damn mind.
Sorry if I tire you out, I promise I don't mean to, but it's like you keep showing up, but not in reality, but in my imagination.
Oh, how I wish you were real. Maybe then I wouldn't have to lose you. Maybe then I could do something to help you. Oh, how I wish...
YOU ARE READING
Letters for her
PoetryThis is just my diary. A diary of a meaningless person with a meaningless life... Except for her, the girl I want to love so bad, yet I can't. Because she is art and art isn't meant to be loved. It's meant to be adored... Because, what really is art...
