x. THE IDEA OF YOU.
it was my fault after all. i made you my wake up call, my coming home, my spring days and fall nights. i crafted an idea of you in my head before meeting the real you. i simply can't uphold the weight of your love, and for that i'm sorry.
YOU ARE READING
what tomorrow brings.
Poetryxvii, april. (iii). you have no voice if no one is listening. © playlist poetry h.r. : #3
