sitting alone in my bed, the fan blowing against my skin,
i remember
the rush of your breath
the pitter-patter of your heart
the soft silk of our shared blanket
but now its thread traces the ground, muddy and frayed,
as i brush through the wind
into the freezing river.
YOU ARE READING
Even Stars Die
Poetry"Nothing is infinite. For even the stars, brilliant and bright and true, light up the dark for but a brief moment before disappearing into the endless night." 【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】 These pages were meant to bring my greatest fears to life because desp...
