She lives in the sounds of moving cars
And dead leaves in the wind.
She dies when it rains in the summer
And she reborns again in the sun.
But she is never here
Not really.
She is there, always there.
Not here.
Never here.
After He Left
By DarkBlueSoul
After you left, I wrote you poems that you'll never get to read. Now you're still gone and I'm still writing ... More