My Ramblings
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Zuletzt aktualisiert Mo., Feb. 17, 2020
Before I know it
against a screen of bright red clouds
I hear the refrain against the black curtain of my closed eyes.
Over and over
again and again
and every time, my heart
it's like what my mother left me scatters away
I want to hear it again, yet I don't want to hear it again
one more time
I want to see her,
yet I don't want to see her.
This kind of feeling
what was it called again?
What do you call this kind of feeling again?
You exist inside spring.
This is probably what you call yearning, I bet.
You exist inside a spring that can't be replaced.
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