I had a dream that my lungs filled with toxic waste called air. Each inhale becoming at last, an exhale. An inhale, becoming my last exhale.
I'm running out of time, with another day wasted, fully aware, that this has all been one big flop. I just didn't know how to get to you. And, my biggest regret? I will never know what it was like, to kiss those lips.
Stubbornness and individuality get the better of me
Opening his mouth, letting his words pour out, he went from extraordinary, to extra ordinary.
We are all works in progress
When are you coming back? I miss you - things are lonely here without you.
Every beginning has its ending.