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a could winter wind blows through the sad winter trees a photograph of him looking back floats down on the wind the eyes in that picture are so pearcing so painful to look at. they tear me apart shred by shred as if i my self was a photograph peices of me fall to the ground as if i was a skitering leaf fallin out of the tree and landed on the cold ground that is his heart. an abondoned house sitting under the sad winter trees not a single window was aglow not a single curtian gave a twich not a single foot tred in that home and not a single soul survived. there was no way that i could survive that cold winter he called love.
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1/24/2021 8:43:04 AM # 1.0.0.425