when am I going to feel beautiful? when am I going to look in the mirror and love what I see?
When you say my name and look at me, it makes me weak.
The final thought that I had when I took my last breath was how the stars would sparkle and the moon would hum when the sky turned midnight black.
I tried to get you out of my mind for so long. I started to forget how the world felt before I knew you were in it.
The water gently rippled along in time with my hair blowing in the breeze.
The warm smell of coffee and bacon glides through the house.
The rain was pouring down outside. Puddles had started to form and the breeze was becoming colder.
Hello. It’s me. But obviously you know that because you’re with me every single day.
We haven’t met yet. Or maybe we have but we are yet to cross paths again. Who knows?
Is there a purpose? What does it all mean? Am I ever going to feel normal?