|
I can picture the babies we will never raise together Their olive skin and their blue-green eyes The sand stuck between their toes at sunset The way they cling to you like wet cloth Too scared to tell you yes; too enchanted to forget Too weak to hurt him to save myself. |
|
|
CONVERSATION
Newest First
·
Oldest First
injeans
recommended
Tiny Story - Weak on August 30, 2010





