Monday, January 23, 2012

(IX)


(drew this at 4:30 in the morning)
Still I recall, with cinnamon breaths and a translucent voice, you said you would help me. You knew I couldn't swim, and yet, you let me drown in my mind and in my tears. I knew, when I was in darkness, I should have wished for the Sun, instead of a candle.

1 comment:

Dear Deia,