February 2012
62 posts
Daughter - Youth
We are the reckless, We are the...
An unsent letter
Dear You,
I’m tired. I feel as though my lungs are filled with water.
I wish you could go back to a time where everything was less messed up. A time before. Before I realised what pain was. Before I knew what losing someone was. Before I realised what lonely was. Before, when I could fall asleep without being haunted with regrets. Regrets of people, and words said or unsaid, of not appreciating...
What a wicked thing to do To make me dream of you
...
