this place is so different. i lay so close to the window i could hear the rain clearly it feels like i should be getting wet. i listen to it some more and i am jealous of it. the rain has such freedom, it travels all around, it's journey never ends.
i told him i think i have accidentally erased myself, he says i am mistaken i am shedding layers, i say i don't like it, he asks why and all i want to say- no shout is stop it, please stop it. he looks at me and i ask him if he is bored of all of this, he says no and asks why i say such things i answer i am bored of it, of me. i tell him i have nothing to give. he says you are getting used to this that is all and i now tell him enough, enough.
my hand is on the window now, the rain taunting me, i want to touch it put my hand through this glass because opening it will take too long
3 comments:
i know that feeling of wanting to scream stop... when the questioning becomes just too hard to handle.
That photo is too beautiful, Nadia. Just too beautiful.
I understand Nadia, it's like sitting there with your skin spread apart like an open jacket and you feel like "what more is there to say".
He is right though, about all you have to give:)
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