Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

Deep.

I’m falling ever so slowly my heartbeat dissipates with every passing second

Every thought is about him 

Every breath is wasted if he’s not around 

His words leave me thirsty, begging for pointless rambling so that my soul may be quenched. 

What a feeling it is to be alive

Is this what the beginning of love is like?

◄ Insomniac

Ceramic. ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message