maybe each time we love, we are growing apart.
there's still fire raging within our systems.
to either burn or warm us.
in the end, one of us couldn't take the heat.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
ninth avenue - poetry
Thơ Ca__ heavenly bodies only know where you are now. maybe i was not holding on too tight as you slipped away. wasn't i still yours? __