Friday 9 December 2011

So much to never say.

Your silence creates a loneliness inside of me that echoes. Deep and empty.
You really left me hanging, this time around. 

When it comes, I must die a bitter old woman - or sooner, a cynical young soul.
They can write books about the one who never loved. 
That's what they were told. 
I think I need to find some daylight - 
Before I fade. 

{Photo by: Flickr Mischelle

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