wHeN ShE wRiTeS sHe WrItEs aLoNe
I must have got here to late, she is gone. Maybe, she hasn’t arrived but she is here in my heart, but, I want to see her. Maybe she is done, with what she was writing. My heart can create her, with my imagination, but I can’t give her a soul or a spirit. She has made herself. I don’t want to take... Sign in to see full entry.