Every word's so. Every word's so fragile. . Inside passion that feels like chasing rain. When the slowness of the day is gone. . Leaving shadow-like feelings to depend upon.
I used to be lunatic from the gracious days. I used to be woebegone and so restless nights. My aching heart would bleed for you to see. Oh, but now. (I don't find myself bouncing home whistling buttonhole just to make me cry).