priannacaames
My hair is silky Yet turning white Eyes hued dark Yet slide to the side Stomach is flat Yet far too wide Tears have built up Too late to subside No idea have I Where to hide My conscience mocks my tears With "Who has died?" A voice in th…
There are moments when I'm lying back in bed, thinking what it is about life that makes it a privilege and not a ride. The answer came to me later on in a dream. My dream depicted the story my aunt used to tell be when I was younger. It wen…