In the search for shared phenomenology, many of my calls have gone unanswered. From the hole I've dug for myself however, my voice might still resonate and find the strength to reach you wherever you may be. Let my lowly voice echo on, let it travel far and wide. It's with these half-formed hopes that my words still seek to glisten in the back of your distant, hazy eyes.
Lost in the language of borrowed time, countless pages are inked with your name as a signature and a long-standing metaphor. I do not know what to say, I do not know what to do. I'd like for things to stay this way but I feel the same way too.
I'd like to think I know where we stand. I just don't know what to say.
Are we still friends? I just hope this doesn't change.
Lost in the language of borrowed time, countless pages are inked with your name as a signature and a long-standing metaphor. I do not know what to say, I do not know what to do. I'd like for things to stay this way but I feel the same way too.
I'd like to think I know where we stand. I just don't know what to say.
Are we still friends? I just hope this doesn't change.
hey, you.
ReplyDelete