Thursday, March 18, 2010

Our faces were made for smiling, but we are weaping


We were sitting in your attic room which was a mess of dirty white sheets and clothing. The afternoon sunshine was pouring through the window and you draped your arm around my shoulder. I wish things could have always been this simple. Where did that boy go, the one who called me beautiful...the boy who I fell in love with that summer...

No comments:

Post a Comment