The thing is I don’t wanna be like the rest, maybe that’s why he feels so disconnected to me. Material things have never mattered to me and what others have thought has never offended me. I’m in my own world where I only chase dreams not beings.
Tag: poet
You’re the spring, while I’m the winter. We are spring snow.
Do you ever miss yourself? A time where joy was simple and you trusted yourself.
Broken crayons still color, so this lost purpose can still be found.