WhEn SHE WriTEs sHE WriTeS ALOnE
I guess, I got here late or she hasn’t been here. My eyesight, must be getting worse. I miss her. I shouldn’t be sad. I am aware of it. That I miss her. I try to hide my face, from others in this empty park. It is empty, she is not here to give it life. The pigeons have come back. They walk near my... Sign in to see full entry.