I sit alone with the sting of my own thoughts. Silent; yet scream like a sharp edge through my head shredding any existence of myself i have left. Silent; not a raindrop out of place in the grey world coming down around me. All these people, and no one has a clue. These eyes; fogged with pain. Silent; like that of the smile i wear. No one knows. There is no quiet place inside me, but at least this way i can have it around me. At least this way, they all stopped asking why the pretty girl doesn't smile anymore; silence.
- memories of a hopeless romantic.
About the Creator
Xina -
Melodically incomplete
looking
for a place
to be.
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