Like a vase without it's love to store inside.
A vase with a gaping, empty hole in it's core.
It is painfully easy to feel the wind sweeping around the inner walls of it's body.
It is constantly reminded that no one is home.
Empty?
This taunting wind needs to stop.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment