
You hold me again. In your arms. The rain is pouring even harder now, coming down like warm, wet paint splattering our arms and faces until we're drenched in it.
Ask for help
They tell you,
But when you do,
They refuse to give it,
Be yourself
They chant,
But when you try,
You're told to hide away.
The light flickers in my bedroom
as I brush my hair;
I remember that theory that it’s someone dead trying to speak to you,
I’m sure it’s just a thing from movies.
The light flickers again in the bathroom
Comments
The shoes look so crisp and clean against the backdrop of the fallen leaves. You can easily tell yourself many stories about where this person is going.
Thank you! :)
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