Its 5.51pm. Almost 6.
The day is cold and lonely. Loving you is like trying to fly before you even learn how to walk. How can I make it through. How can I survive.
I’ve been waiting, and waiting. Until I’m sick and tired of waiting. And then I give up. I no longer want to wait. I don’t like to wait. Waiting for something that’ll never come makes it worse.
You’re no longer there. Neither am I.
not what i want;
clarice