Music: Muse - Falling Away From You - Absolution
Mood: Impassive
I gather up
Each sound
You left behind
And stretch them
On our bed
Each night
I breathe you
And become high.
Mood: Impassive
I gather up
Each sound
You left behind
And stretch them
On our bed
Each night
I breathe you
And become high.
nice work wit the vowels, was it intentional?
not really, just something that came out of the moment. i saw your archive on poetry.com. very tasteful work.