Coffee and Hair buns
The smell of coffee. Costumers talking. And then there is you in the corner laughing at your book with your hair in a bun. I hope to see you more.
The smell of coffee. Costumers talking. And then there is you in the corner laughing at your book with your hair in a bun. I hope to see you more.
Is this really life? Is there nothing else out there? Can't I be free from this? What did I do to deserve this?
My thoughts as I hold an imaginary staring contest with my bed in this prison.
I don't want this life anymore. I will run and run until I'm finally free... Alternative ending to "And It All Goes Black"
I always stay behind, wating for her, and at 10:30 the door opens and the musci begins. Twirling, spining and dancing. I can never take my eyes of her.
Do you remember those times together? All the laughter and smiles? I do... And I miss them...
He looks perfect even woth the lights off, but... the lonelines never escapes his eyes... not even with me here...