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Literature Text
It will be a cold winter with your memories in my veins.
I can feel it, the moist stoney rock dust crystallizing my lips and leaving ice crystals in my drying leaf hair.
It all seemed to be so quick, everything died early this year.
Trees look down from their boney hips, cool sadness creaking in their limbs.
It reminds me of your face.
Your baby eyes and your innocent lips.
I can feel it, the moist stoney rock dust crystallizing my lips and leaving ice crystals in my drying leaf hair.
It all seemed to be so quick, everything died early this year.
Trees look down from their boney hips, cool sadness creaking in their limbs.
It reminds me of your face.
Your baby eyes and your innocent lips.
© 2014 - 2024 beckybeckybeck
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