The sky is still dark when you shut your door and walk along your path.
Nothing speaks of your presence except for the loud tap tap of your feet against the gravel.
The air is colder than you expect and it brushes across your face and combs your hair ever so gently.
Something at the back of your mind, hidden in the dark sordid corners of your heart; something emerging from the sides of your eyes, stings in a warm-turned-cold kind of way.
There’s a distance you cannot bring your words to speak of; it’s too painful.
So you continue on, unnoticed, to become the person you want to be.
You don’t realize it’s probably the same person you are now in a different environment, living in the same altered way.
It’s like being on two different sides of the street; each side looks completely different from the other.
We’re all ghosts in this world, ghosts of our own beings.
...Dress accordingly.
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥ஜღ Silent Lullaby of a Lonely Butterfly ღஜ♥Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ
They’re the little twinkle of emotion every now and then. They can run like rivers or freeze like a pond on an ever-so-calm day. They are quiet and subtle; only the truly worthy can see the treasures they possess. Are you capable of holding someone’s heart?
