Sunday, 19 April 2015

Stay

His words are laced with poison and his tongue with whiskey. His kisses are his battles with sanity he says. His touches remind me of cold winters and his voice of broken windows. He searches my face to look for a reason to turn his back and  walk away. But every time he looks at me, I find a reason to stay.

2 comments:

  1. Your work is fine-edged,and my heart caresses it like my fingers would silk. Envious,really! :P

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