Opportunity is gentle in her lust.
These particles run amok and
I miss you so much.
How silly to think this was it.
A perfect fit.
A vessel of anxiety,
A boat on the high sea,
A tidal wave forgotten in this misery.
Our flame it burns so brightly
A scream rendered silent ever nightly
Running into ghosts of you
Forever stuck in September.
Published by delightedpessimist
I am the delighted pessimist. Purveyor of sadness, happiness, and everything in between. Also cheesy statuses because I never know what else to put here.
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