It was never the way she looked in my eyes. It was when she didn't. New promises, not hearts. Cash in your secrets and 'come home to me.'
Brought together by the incessant need to protect these engines in our chests. Neither of us will stray too far, or be gone too long from the other. We're the sun and the earth.
Striped socks and punk rock PJ's. 7th Avenue sweethearts. Doorways and windows. I'm not sure which way to leave this room.
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We will forever be a community of writers asking you to fall in (love) or be taken (hostage.) We only want to make you smile, and encourage you to pick up the pen, or start using those fingers on your keyboard!
