Stop your childish stories. Grow up.

by withenamora


Winds blow to roaring sound of thunder on the background. A hustling of leaves as wind blew south on and on. At times I thought to myself, winter is coming. Then I look at my Armani and no, no one is coming. The sea isn’t calm tonight. I put myself on high alert; I always do when I know I’m about to fall. Dear heart hums a name silently and it goes on throughout the night. I know I am missing you. And again I had to look away, maybe look further when I always have. Because you need a storm for rainbows to appear.