August
30 September 2007
We only said goodbye with words.
I died a hundred times.
You go back to her,
and I go back to black.
He walks away.
The sun goes down.
He takes the day but I´m grown,
and in this grey, in this blue shade,
my tears dry on their own.
It´s ok in the day,
I´m staying busy,
tied up enough so I don´t have to wonder where is he.
Got to sick of crying,
so just lately,
when I catch myself do a 180,
I stay up clean
Direct link:
http://dayviews.com/chickdude/2007/9/30/
Visa toppen
Show footer