Just put me back on the shelf. Read me, because you cannot live my story. You must save yourself from the trauma. Read me like a book, then close it up and replace to the shelf. That is what is best for you. Why? Because I will destroy any faith in tomorrow you thought you ever had. You believe it is me who brought the sun. I am the rain, recall? There is no warmth nor comfort in me. I'm cold, cruel and spooky. I am the train coming of which you are stopped for to allow passage. I am the rock of which the ocean waves crash upon. Where do you find joy in me? Or hope? Surely, I have fooled you.
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2 Responses May 27, 2015

hmmm sounds interesting and intriguing