My blog is for you. My blog is black. You were my angel. You are my loss. Its mourning for life empty without you. And the worst part is that I still hope you will call me one morning to hear me. To tell me that you want me again. To kiss me. To hug me. To live with me.
Hope is my weak spot. You are becoming a memory. A secret....
Έχω διπλώσει στα δύο, σε στάση εμβρύου, πνίγομαι, βουρκώνω σε μιαν ανά-μνηση που έγινε εφιάλτης.
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