Escape escapes me... or I escaped it- it doesnt matter. But to lose you, your soft, gentle, lovely form in the arms of another... What shall be left of me? My form, a spiritless husk... left to wither in the heat of summer. I asked you... I said there will be none Yet my loaylty? Gone. Lost when you took to that lover, Or is it still here? I don't care- but I know one thing, that I shall find it hard to love another...
Reason for writing:
I guess life is meant to be cold at times...
just like a love that was never met... never lasted or was never meant to be. And yet, even though you have no tears left to cry, one finds it difficult to let go
Birth sign: Libra
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