Pitiful. Sad. That was what he looked like to the outside world for the next months.
The world listens to reply and not to understand. They saw him just to judge him, not to understand the troubles bubbling just beneath the surface of his mind. But none of them are as cruel as the voices running through his head.
They didn't know that she was almost an obsession to him. That she was like a drug.
Trade her life with mine.
Trade my years for more of hers.
Let her live a little while longer. Let Life fill her and death leave her.
Trade my soul with just one more day with her.
YOU ARE READING
Typical I ✔
Poetry{Highest rank: #222 in Poetry} "They say beauty is to be noticed, so she hid hers." o..oo..o This is the tale of the girl that tried so hard to be invisible. This is the story of a boy who went everywhere with a spotlight over his head...
