aguilar1793
I see them standing there, desolate, alone, tattered. They look up at me with empty eyes as if they are pleading me to take them with me. But I cannot take a hundred of these broken children for I am only a broken child myself.
I feel her breath on my neck as her hand slides down my front side. The warm air makes my hair rise as I close my eyes and imagine myself running through a golden field as a child while the sun sets.
writing since 2011 · 3 entries · 3 days shown up
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riotseyeschildbrokenwishliveviolentsoundsoftencausesriotersfightingfightappleupdatemeaning