Hollow
My nails are bright red and I can still taste the vanilla cake.
It’s the middle of spring. Your hand is in mine.
Birds are chirping. Love is blooming.
But there’s a hollow feeling inside of me
And I realize now I will never be satisfied.
All that’s permanent is the ending.
I’ve always been a temporary woman.
© lindsey
It’s the middle of spring. Your hand is in mine.
Birds are chirping. Love is blooming.
But there’s a hollow feeling inside of me
And I realize now I will never be satisfied.
All that’s permanent is the ending.
I’ve always been a temporary woman.
© lindsey