I wait to hear.
I know I'm not going to want to listen.
He says that he talks to me because at least I answer him back.
My magic is gone and my patience is lost.
He should say those things into a different set of ears.
I grow wearier.
I tell myself that I should take hope that at least I'm growing.
It's a joke at which I do not laugh.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment